Point Blank

what he meant.
    It was all in the details, the things you wouldn’t notice unless you saw them all together, like they were now. The way they were all sitting with their backs straight and their elbows close to their sides. The way they held their knives and forks. Hugo laughed, and Alex realized that for a moment he had become a mirror image of Cassian. It was the same laugh. He watched Joe eat a mouthful of food. Then he watched Nicolas. They were two different boys. There was no doubting that. But they ate in the same way, as if mimicking each other.
    There was a movement at the door, and suddenly Mrs. Stellenbosch appeared. ‚Good afternoon, boys,‛ she said.
    ‚Good afternoon, Mrs. Stellenbosch.‛ Five people answered, but Alex heard only one voice.
    He and James had remained silent.
    ‚Lessons this afternoon will begin at three o’clock. The subjects will be Latin and French.‛
    The lessons were taught by Dr. Grief or Mrs. Stellenbosch. There were no other teachers at the school.
    Alex hadn’t yet been taught anything. James dipped in and out of class, depending on his mood.
    ‚There will be a discussion this evening in the library,‛ Mrs. Stellenbosch went on. ‚The subject is violence in television and film. Tom, you will open the debate. Afterward, there will be hot chocolate, and Dr. Grief will give a lecture on the works of Mozart. Everyone is welcome to attend.‛
    James jabbed a finger into his open mouth and stuck out his tongue. Alex smiled. The other boys were listening quietly.
    ‚Dr. Grief would also like to congratulate Cassian James on winning the poetry competition.
    His poem is pinned to the bulletin board in the main hall. That is all.‛
    She turned and left the room. James rolled his eyes. ‚Let’s go out and get some fresh air,‛ he said. ‚I’m feeling sick.‛
    The two of them went upstairs and put on their coats. James had the room next door to Alex and had done his best to make it more homey. There were posters of old sci-fi movies on the wall and a mobile with the solar system dangling above the bed. A lava lamp bubbled and swirled on the bedside table, casting an orange glow. There were clothes everywhere. James obviously didn’t believe in hanging them up. Somehow he managed to find a scarf and a single glove. He shoved one hand into a pocket. ‚Let’s go,‛ he said.
    They went back down and along the corridor, passing the games room. Nicolas and Cassian were playing table tennis, and Alex stopped at the door to watch them. The ball was bouncing back and forth, and Alex found himself mesmerized. He stood there for about sixty seconds, watching. Kerplink, kerplunk, kerplink, kerplunk-neither of the boys was scoring. There it was again. Different but the same. Obviously, there were two boys there. But the way they played, the style of their game, was identical. If it had been one boy knocking a ball against a mirror, the result would have looked much the same. Alex shivered. James was standing at his shoulder.
    The two of them moved away.
    Hugo was sitting in the library. The boy who had been sent to Point Blanc for shoplifting was reading a Dutch edition of National Geographic magazine. They reached the hall, and there was Cassian’s poem, prominently pinned to the bulletin board. He had been sent to Point Blanc for smuggling drugs. Now he was writing about daffodils.
    Alex pushed open the main door and felt the cold wind hit his face. He was grateful for it.
    He needed to be reminded that there was a real world outside this bizarre goldfish bowl.
    It had begun to snow again. The two boys walked slowly around the building. A couple of guards walked toward them, speaking softly in German. Alex had counted thirty guards at Point Blanc, all of them young German men, dressed in uniform black roll-neck sweaters and black vests. The guards never spoke to the boys. They had the pale, unhealthy faces and close-cropped hair he would have expected. Dr. Grief had said they were there for his protection, but Alex still wondered. Were they here to keep intruders out, or the boys in?
    ‚This way,‛ James said.
    James walked ahead, his feet sinking into the thick snow. Alex followed, looking back at the windows on the third and fourth floors. It was maddening. A whole half of the castleperhaps more-was closed off to him, and he still couldn’t think of a way of getting up to it. He couldn’t climb. The brickwork was too smooth and there was no convenient ivy to provide