Both David and Turner Johnson walked through the doors of the gym almost completely overwhelmed by its splendor and sophistication. Turner, carrying a cane and walking with a slight gimp in his leg, wore a plain white shirt with gray pants and suspenders. David wore his usual outfit, except around his right arm was a crude looking device, an ugly, dripping mass of rusting metal crawling up to his elbow with a large barrel protruding from the top of it.
“What is that…that disgusting looking thing around his arm?!” Ms. Dawes was completely horrified.
“Looks like some type of...arm cannon,” Mr. Taylor said with a curious smile.
“A very primitive arm cannon,” Mr. James said sternly.
“Well it’s horrible looking!” Ms. Dawes replied. “I hope he doesn't expect to win with that thing.”
It was, in fact, a gas-powered arm cannon that David had been working on, made from refurbished computer parts and old automobile gears. The cannon was armed with about ten million rounds of extra tiny balls of plastic using an automatic propulsion system David made with toy engines connected to tiny magnets.
Mrs. Warren turned to Nelson.
“Nelson, if this goes bad, I will personally hold you responsible,” she said slowly, letting each word grind into his ears.
Nelson smiled. “Understood, Mrs. Warren. But I've got a feeling this is going to be a more interesting match that you're expecting.”
Then he handed out files with more information about David Johnson, as well as comparison data that assessed how well his skills would match up with the current class of ATSD students. While the others looked over the files, Principal Nelson began receiving instructions from communication device in his ear.
“Yes…ok,” Nelson spoke with a hand over his ear. “Yes, his grandfather is here with him, but that shouldn’t be a problem…ok…very good. Thank you. We’re ready.”
Nelson walked over to the gymnasium microphone and clicked it on.
“Good afternoon,” Nelson began, the sound system filling the gymnasium with his voice. “My name is Principal Nelson. On behalf of myself and the executive board, I would like to welcome you both to the Academy of Technology and Self-Defense. We are all extremely delighted to host you. Now if you would be so kind as to take a few steps back, we will be opening the top of the gym to bring in your opponent.”
David and Turner moved toward the gymnasium walls. Suddenly, the dome ceiling over the gym slowly split open into two halves, like a gigantic egg being cracked above them. Sunshine began to bleed into the vast gym, the wind from the outside whooshing all around them. David and Turner covered their faces for a moment. Then out of the glare of the sun came a sleek figure slowly and silently descending into the gym.
“May I introduce to you,” Nelson said, “our most prized student, Georg Otis Dean.”