He rolled over to watch Eto Mahs climb out of the river, shivering. Titus raised his hand to his mouth to yell, “Take your clothes off, you nitwit!” but the inhibitor beeped a warning.

Sheepishly, Titus smacked his forehead. The lab techs must be keeping record of every incident when they tried to speak. That could be the purpose of the course. On every obstacle, underneath the instructions, they were told they could quit the course at any time without consequences by simply saying, “End program.”

Mahs resolutely stepped onto the narrow light beam one more time, his teeth biting his lower lip. Titus shook his head at the poor guy. He probably hadn’t expected an obstacle course on a communications project. Mahs was a third‑year Cadet majoring in exobiology, according to the summary at the beginning of the course. His mother was supposedly Japanese and his father was from–what planet was it?–wherever. Titus didn’t recall ever seeing him around the Academy, but Mahs had nodded in greeting as if he recognized Titus. They had never spoken a word to each other.

Eto Mahs wobbled, flailing his arms, his wet hair whipping around. “Yeiiahhh!!”he screamed again as he fell.

Titus rolled onto his back again, chewing on a piece of grass. What did he care how long it took Mahs to get across? Come Monday, he would be transporting to the Assembly. He could think of worse ways to spend the next two days than relaxing on the hillside enjoying the gentle breeze.

Titus kicked his heels against the stone wall where he sat watching Eto Mahs. Mahs was trying to turn the handle to open the gate obstacle. They could have just as easily jumped over, but the instruction said each of them had to turn a handle to open the gate before they could go through. Titus had turned his handle with one twist of his wrist, while Mahs was practically hanging off his handle. It wouldn’t budge.

Titus twisted up one side of his mouth. Eto Mahs was hardly as tall as his shoulder, and was probably the skinniest guy he’d ever seen. But he couldn’t understand how anyone could be that weak. The latch did have a tricky notch you had to catch, but Titus had immediately felt it when he turned the handle. How could Mahs not figure it out? But then again, it had taken twelve tries before Mahs got across the river that morning.

As it turned out, the guy did have a great sense of direction. A few times he had been right about which way to go–once after Titus had tramped at least a mile in the other direction, with Mahs tugging at his arm the whole way, trying to make him turn back.

Mahs gasped out, collapsing against the wall, hanging onto the handle for support. Slowly, he slid down until he was huddled on the ground, breathing heavily.

Titus wished he could tell the guy how to open it. He got down and made motions for Mahs to push in as he turned the handle, but Mahs wearily nodded that he understood what to do. Titus raised his hands, silently admitting that there was nothing else he could contribute, and he returned to his post on the wall.

Impatiently, he glanced around. Were they going to be forced to camp here tonight? It wasn’t a bad spot, but there was lake on the other side of the gate that he was dying to get to. A swim before rolling out the bedroll would be perfect. Yet he couldn’t cheat and jump the fence. The instructions were very clear that the partners were supposed to remain together.

He stared down at Mahs, wondering if the exobiologist had quit or was getting up the energy for another try. Suddenly Mahs looked up, meeting his eyes, as if he could feel the contempt Titus felt for him.

Startled, Titus looked away. He wondered if Eto Mahs had known all day how pitiful he looked to Titus. He felt kind of bad about it, but also more than a little justified. Why didn’t Mahs just say “End Program” and get them both out of here? Titus would still have time to get to the Antarctic Circle before the party ended, and he’d have another whole day before he had to report to the Assembly.

Mahs was still looking up at him resentfully, and Titus let slip a little of his own resentment at being stuck with such a weakling.

Mahs flinched as if Titus had shouted the word. Without another glance, he got up and grabbed hold of the handle again.

Titus instantly felt bad about the pain in Mahs’ dark eyes. He didn’t want to hurt the guy. But watching him struggle with the handle, panting after only a few moments’ effort, made him want to roll his eyes and shake his head in exasperation. He heroically restrained himself, even managing to feel a little burst of sympathy toward for him. But that evaporated when Mahs cast another resentful look over his shoulder.

Titus sighed. It looked like it would be a long, dry evening ahead.

Titus made camp all by himself, gathering enough grass to pad both of their bedrolls, when Mahs suddenly turned the handle and the gate swung open.

The inhibitor stopped Titus from exclaiming, “Finally!” He grinned, ready for a long, cool swim.

But Mahs was tugging on his arm, pointing back at the gate. There was an instruction sheet posted on this side, but he must have blown right past it, eyes only for the lake.

“Proceed to the peak to make camp,” the instructions said.

Titus turned to look, having memorized the landscape as they slowly traversed the deep valley. They couldn’t mean thatpeak in the distance, on the other side of the lake. It was so far away that they would never reach it before sunset.

He realized he was shaking his head when Mahs insistently nodded, pointing to the instructions, then to the peak.

Titus stared at Mahs. Why didn’t he just give up?

Mahs narrowed his eyes slightly, jerking his chin at Titus– Why don’t you?

The challenge hung between them only a few seconds, then Titus slowly grinned at Mahs, making it very clear that hewould never give up.

*   *   *

They were trudging up the lower slope of the peak in full darkness when a computer voice announced, “Your time is up. Thank you for participating in Communications Project #104.”

The mountainside glimmered, flattening into an obvious projection before disappearing. The familiar orange‑gridded walls rose around them.

Titus lifted up one hand wordlessly as the door slid open and two lab techs with padds entered. The instructions said there was no way to “fail” the course, but it wasn’t his fault they didn’t complete it on time. The inhibitor stifled his initial outburst.

“Cadet Titus,” one tech read off the padd. “Follow me.”

Titus glanced back down the corridor as Mahs was led in the other direction. Maybe it would be better this way. He could explain in private to the lab tech. He didn’t intend to fail this volunteer assignment. That would ruin all of his plans.

But the lab tech didn’t give him a chance to explain. The inhibitor was left intact and he was shown into a cubicle with a bed, wash facilities, and a replicator. He gestured, puzzled, but the lab tech just winked and activated the door. It slid shut between them. There was no panel on his side for him to open it.

Titus was about to override his inhibitor to protest–imprisonment wasn’t what he signed up for! But before he could speak a holo‑emitter activated, creating one of the sign posts, incongruously, next to the door, complete with an instruction card.

“Eat and get some sleep,” the instructions said. “You will complete the course tomorrow.”

Titus let out a wordless grunt of exasperation. So this was still part of the project. Well, he could play along with that.

The silence was starting to get to him. It hadn’t been so bad the night before, when he was exhausted from their last sprint to get to the peak. He had barely taken time to eat before falling into bed. When he woke, he cleaned up and ate another huge meal, all the while gingerly testing his inhibitor, looking around the cubicle and wondering when they were going to get him out of here.