Shadow World Read Online Free PDF Page A

recognized coming through the door. It was the young man from the hallway.
    Cara watched as he collected a tray and headed for a servo, admiring his build. Wide shoulders, nice butt, and handsome, too. Wonder if he has a girlfriend? The thought made her grin inwardly. Where's your professional detachment? Those are hardly journalistic thoughts, girl.
    She looked him over again, searching for a clue to his mood. If she wanted to interview him while the emotions of his trying day were still fresh with him, now seemed like the best time. Waving her camera unobtrusively into position, but not turning (it on, she got up and crossed over to where he sat.
    [ "Hello! Mind if I join you?"
    Listlessly he nodded at one of the empty seats. Cara sat down and took a deep breath. "I'm Cara Hendricks, a journalist from Earth. What's your name?" [ "Mark Kenner," he said reluctantly. "I'd like to interview you, Mark.
    May I activate my camera?"
    "Why me?" he countered. "I'm sure there are plenty of other [people who would enjoy the opportunity." As he finished, Mark seemed to realize how rude that sounded, and amended, ("Sorry, no offense, but I'm just not in the mood." His hazel eyes were shadowed and unhappy.
    ¦ He looks like he hasn't got a friend in the universe, Cara thought. "I can see that," she said, "but that's exactly why I want to interview you. You see, I'm doing a documentary, and every student I interviewed today, Mizari, Simiu, Chhhh-kk-tu, human, whatever, they all told me how wonderful StarBridge is and how much they love it here. I'm sure that's true, but as a journalist, I know it can't be true all the time."
    "So you're looking for the other side of the story?" "Right!"
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    "Well, I'm not it. I agree with the rest of them. The Academy is great." He took a determined bite of his sandwich.
    "It didn't look so great for you in the hall today," Cara said bluntly.
    Mark stopped chewing and stared at her, then shrugged. "School is school, no matter where. You don't do your assignments, you get a lecture."
    "But isn't it weird to get that lecture from a big snake?"
    For the first time strong emotion flared in the young man's hazel eyes; he glared at her indignantly. "We don't have snakes here, Ms. Hendricks. We have people. If you're going to do a documentary on this place, you need to get ideas like that out of your head. In fact, it's that kind of humanchauvinist bigoted thinking that this school is dedicated to--"
    He broke off, staring hard at her. "Wait a minute. You didn't mean that ... you were just getting a rise out of me."
    "Very quick," Cara said approvingly. "For a fish that bit the line hard, you sure spit the hook right back out. I used to go fishing a lot back home," she added in response to his quizzical look. "In the Appalachian wilderness park, only hour's hop from home. I'm from Old NorthAm. Southeast!
    Metroplex--Atlanta division. How about you?"
    "Uh ... Earth. Old NorthAm." He didn't say what part.
    "Look, I apologize for baiting you," Cara said. "I do understand the school's mission. I've read Mahree Burroughs' First Contacts three times, and admired the whole idea of this school ever since the project was first proposed."
    He smiled wryly, but at least there was genuine humor in it. "When Rob Gable and Esteemed Ssoriszs first proposed the school, you were still in diapers. I was barely four."
    She grinned back. "Okay, point conceded. But I do agree wholeheartedly with the StarBridge mission. However, a good journalist tries to examine all angles to a story. No place in the universe is perfect, right?" Mark had stiffened up again so she shrugged and waved reassuringly. "Okay, never mind. Let's just chat a minute. Off the record."
    "Off the record?" Mark asked skeptically, but then he sighed and smiled again. "Okay, I surrender."
    "Great! Thanks," said Cara. "For one thing, I'm trying to boil down all the information I learned today into quick
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    expotion for my viewers. Everyone knows about the human