Beyond the Shroud Read Online Free Page A

mutsh chans of that thow! Sumtims I cant beleev it rearly happnd can yoo. Rite soon from Adam E.
    Blat! Away it went. Darn — only five minutes left!
    Quickly, I hopped off the Internet — fully paid courtesy of Q, access restricted to me and protected by my password, all unknown to Matron — and called up my gladiator project.
    For a long moment I sat back and gazed at the title page with this goofy little smile. I scrolled carefully down, looking for where I’d left off last time. Scrolled down page … after page … after page. I couldn’t believe how long it was! Looking at that project, you’d never in a zillion years have guessed it had been done by Adam Equinox, class blockhead.
    We’d been given the assignment at the beginning of term. We had the whole term to work on it, the McCracken told us, and she expected a top job. ‘At least five pages — and preferably legible, and bearing some relation to the topic, Adam Equinox.’
    Well, was she in for a shock!
    Before, I’d have shoved the worksheet right to the back of my desk and forgotten all about it — until Nicole or someone ‘happened to mention’ how many hundred pages they’d done, on the day it was due.
    But this time I got stuck in straight away. I made up my mind to do a little bit each time I used the computer.Right at the beginning I typed in ROMAN GLADIATORS and hopped on the Internet to see what I could find — and after a couple of false starts it was like an open sesame to a whole new world. I got so hooked into the whole thing I even cruised by the school library to see what books I could find, so I could carry on with it at weekends. The librarian had acted kind of startled, looking at me as if I was an alien from another planet. Which in that library, I guess I was.
    By now, weeks down the track, it was a total masterpiece. It had special headings, and it was illustrated with pictures from the graphics library Q had installed. I’d even numbered the pages with Roman numerals — that idea had breezed into my head one night when I couldn’t get to sleep.
    Every session before I quit I ran it through Q’s special Spell Checker and Grammar Fixer, to make double sure there were no mistakes. It worried me how many it seemed to find, and I sometimes wondered if there was a fault in the programme. I couldn’t wait to see the McCracken’s face when she saw it, and read my name on the front page.
    Today, I was doing a section called The Venatio , about a special kind of combat to do with hunting and killing exotic wild animals. I’d just started typing — pecking away with two fingers, but way faster than when I’d started — when someone spoke behind me, so close his breath tickled the back of my neck.
    â€˜You can do more exciting stuff than that wiff computers if you know how.’ I practically jumped through the ceiling. I knew who it was without turning round — I’d know that voice anywhere, with its distinctive little lisp. Weevil.
    I scowled at him. ‘Shove off. I’m busy.’
    He ignored me. ‘A lot more.’ He craned his neck to see what was on the screen. I shifted so my body was shielding it.
    â€˜I mean it. Leave me alone.’
    But he pulled up another chair and sat down with his arms across the back, resting his chin on them. ‘I know all about you,’ he said cosily. ‘How you won that competition, and went to Quested Court and everyfing. I entered too — nicked an entry form from a girl in my class. Computers — they’re my fing. I could have learned heaps on that course. But I didn’t get picked: you did. What a waste — you’re as thick as peanut butter. Tell you what, though: it’s not what you know, it’s who you know that counts. You know the right people — people like Quentin Quested. That’s why I want to be your friend. How about it? Want to be