by Adam Holt
Anyway, the way we played it was a three-person operation. We tucked ourselves close together on the couch with me in the middle. Sunjay was the architect. He created a “mental map” of where we had been and always seemed to know which caves we had not entered. Tabitha was the problem-solver. When we were stuck between choices, she could always find an escape route. And I was the controller because Tabitha and Sunjay couldn’t control the teleporter wand and do anything else at the same time, like run or jump or not freak out. We had lost countless lives because Tabitha would walk into walls or off cliffs because she was concentrating on using the portal wand. If a monster were about to eat us, Sunjay would throw the controller and run out of the Mission Control. We would all take turns just for fun, but when the caves got tough, we all knew our jobs.
That morning I controlled for a while but soon let Sunjay take his turn. At first I tried to help, but he kept falling off the same cliff again and again and again. “Sunjay, don’t forget. Shoot and jump. Shoot AND jump. NOW! Shoot and jump now!” Then it started getting comical. “Okay, Sunjay, whatever you do, DON’T jump now. Fall off the cliff, Sunjay. Fall off! FALL NOW! Yay, you did it!”
“Stars, stop bugging me, Tully. I know what to do!” he said, but his fingers couldn’t prove it.
Finally, I just got bored and started doodling on the sketchpad where Sunjay had been mapping the caves. After a few minutes of doodling, Tabitha peeked over at the page. I had not realized, but I doodled parts of my dream. There was the Harper Device floating in my room, and me on the floor. All those nighttime feelings of loneliness came back to me. Suddenly tears welled up in my eyes. I swallowed hard and tried to get back into the game, but Brain Voice returned. This won’t last much longer. Your dad will leave you and where’s your mom? You’ll be alone again, Tully.
“Tully?” Talk about double embarrassment. Tabitha had already invaded my man cave this morning. Now she was watching me doodle and cry. “Tully? What is it?” she asked, frowning and biting her lip.
That’s all it took. “I—my dad, he’s going on another mission.” My voice felt uncontrollable for a moment, but I gathered myself. I explained how I sent Little Bacon into my dad’s office, which turned into a virtual conference room. Tabitha listened carefully but Sunjay was excited about all the wrong things.
“Really? A virtual room! Oh, whoops!” yelled Sunjay, dropping the controller and watching our character jump into a pit. “What’s the purpose of the mission and when—“
“Sunjay,” Tabitha cut him off. “Wrong questions. How long until your dad leaves, Tully?”
“Four weeks.”
“Oh, awesome!” shouted Sunjay. “I wish he was my dad. My dad just researches at headquarters and doesn’t do anything interesting except he broke his nose at work the other day, which is interesting I guess if—”
“Sunjay!” Tabitha clamped a hand over Sunjay’s mouth. “Shut it. This isn’t about you.”
“Three billion miles away,” I continued, “and me stuck in Middle of Nowhere, Alaska, with Aunt Selma, chopping wood and being the weird hologram thing in the back of the classroom. You guys, my dad almost died on his last trip.”
“I can’t imagine how that feels.”
“It feels like I’m a helpless little kid!” I pounded my leg with my fist. “My mind gets stuck on the same bad feelings. I can’t think straight. My heart feels like it’s full of pins. Not anymore. I’m not going to feel it again. I’m making a plan.”
“A plan for what?” she said, grabbing my hand.
I felt this electric charge when she touched my hand, like a big confidence boost for some reason. My tears stopped; I took a breath. “I don’t want to stay here,” I explained. I pointed toward the ceiling. “I want to go up there.” The words came back to me. “This time I won’t stay behind.”
Sunjay looked confused at first. “No, not the roof! Tully, you already fell off once. Don’t do it. I don’t want to lose you. I’ll miss you so much—“
Tabitha grabbed his hand. “No, Sunjay, he’s not jumping off the roof. He’s pointing into space!” We all sunk deeper into the couch, thinking, letting the idea swirl inside our heads. A light popped on inside Sunjay’s head. He understood at last. Tabitha looked concerned at first, but her face softened. She started to grin, and then she squeezed my hand tighter. The harder she pressed, the more I seemed to relax, and the more I let myself look into her lovely green eyes. Then Sunjay grabbed my hand. His palm was sweaty, but I didn’t care. We sat there holding hands. It must have looked ridiculous, sitting on the couch like we were having prayer time or something, but it felt right, sort of peaceful and scary at the same time.
“This time I won’t be left behind. I won’t be left behind.” It felt dire good, like it could actually happen, like I could actually sneak past all the Space Alliance security cameras and guards and right onto my father’s ship. Just saying it to my friends made me feel—I don’t know—brave. For once, none of the voices in my head challenged me.
Sunjay broke the spell though. “And how will you get on board the ship? Won’t you be disobeying your father? What will they do when they discover your plot? You’ll be sent to jail.” Sunjay spurted questions after question until he could think of no more, and Tabitha kept holding my hand. “What will, how will, where?” Sunjay finally ran out of questions and shrugged. “Okay, well, fine. I’m just glad you’re not jumping off the roof to your death.”
“He wouldn’t do that. Who would get us past this level of Cave-In!,” Tabitha said. We looked at the LiveWall and watched our character being eaten by a ferocious monster. I did one of those sniffle-laughs that feel good after a cry.
“Okay, Tully Harper,” she said, “you won’t stay behind. I only have one question,” she said, glancing at Sunjay, then back to me.
“What’s that?”
“Would you like some company?” she said.
“Company? Oh, you mean it?” I said. Sunjay nodded his approval. Yep, they meant it. I was so glad they wanted to come. My dad had his crew. Now I had my team.
However, if I told my team what had happened to me the day before, I don’t think they would have said yes.
NERVE
The day before my dad scheduled a few meetings at the Alliance Space Center. It was a beautiful sunny day. I convinced him to take me along. I wanted to snoop around some more to find out about his mission, but that’s not what I told my dad.
“Do you think I can tour The Adversity today?”
“Sure, it’s in Hangar One, that big building over there. Join a tour group. I’ll meet you for lunch in the cafeteria, so don’t fill up on candy. You should wear sunglasses and a hat, too. If anyone recognizes who you are, it might make a scene. Hey, bring your football. We can throw later.” I said that was fine, threw on some shades and a Houston Rockets hat, and packed my bag. An hour later we pulled into the Space Alliance main campus, which stretched along Clear Lake. Dozens of buildings, warehouses, and aircraft hangars filled the campus. We drove through a security checkpoint. The guard gave us a polite nod and my dad hardly slowed down—apparently no one but Commander Harper drove a one hundred year old sports car to work.
We planned to meet at the Alliance cafeteria at noon. Dad pointed me toward Hangar One, which was the size of a basketball stadium, and headed toward his destination, Hangar Two, which was across a large parking lot. At that point I had a choice to make: stay with the tour group or follow my dad. I needed to find a hiding spot on board The Adversity. I also needed to know more about the mission. Either way I would miss out on something. If only I had someone else to help me, we could have split up and done both. Little Bacon was undersized for this kind of adventure. I yanked some sour gummy worms from my backpack, ate a few, and pondered my predicament. After a moment, I made up my mind. I ran after my dad toward Hangar Two.
He walked across an open area, said hello to a security guard, and entered the side door of Hangar Two. Tiny door, enormous hangar. A pudgy security
guard in a black uniform stood watch beside the door. “Howdy, Commander,” he said with a strong Texas accent. I ducked behind a car and watched the guard for a moment. Lots of people came through the door. The guard said “Howdy, Professor” or “Howdy, Admiral.” Everyone flashed a badge when they entered. I couldn’t get in without a badge, and I could tell these were not the kind of badges you could buy at the Alliance Gift Shop. These were VIP’s.
To get in, I needed a distraction. My football was in the backpack. Perfect, I thought. I can hit the guard in the head with the football and knock him out. Then I could walk right in. Stuff like that worked in the movies, but I couldn’t throw a football that accurately. Also, it was kind of a stupid idea. Even if I hit him, would he really slump over and pass out? Uh, no.
I could hit the side of the hangar though. That might work. I stepped from behind the car, reared back, and threw the ball as hard as possible. It hit the metal hangar about fifty feet away from the guard. It made enough noise to get his attention. As he started to walk toward the noise, I dashed from behind the car and through the door.
Like I said, tiny door, enormous hangar—it was the size and shape of a football stadium, bright but totally hollow. The roof towered 200 feet overhead, the walls stretched at least that far in all direction. Everything, including the floor, was shiny and white. It was like a giant cereal bowl turned upside down. If anyone was looking for me, they would have seen me immediately, but everyone in the enormous room—about fifty people in all—was looking at hundreds of holographic screens of different sizes and shapes in the middle of the room. Behind all those screens I saw a faint red glow. Then I looked at the images—all of them same spherical shape rotating slowly and shedding mist. It didn’t take long to figure out what was behind all those screens: the Device was there. That was quick, I thought. Trackman must have shipped it here right after that conference with my dad. I wondered about my dad’s request, if they would take the Device on the mission. About that time I heard a rumble of thunder and rain on the roof.
In the middle of Hangar Two I saw a few familiar faces from the virtual room conference—Buckshot, Redshirt, and Sylvia Moreline were all there. I looked around for Gallant Trackman and Lincoln Sawyer, but they were nowhere to be seen. A group of people walked in behind me. Oh, no, I thought, but they didn’t pay me any attention. They walked toward the Harper Device and I followed them. Someone stepped onto a platform in front of the screens, but I was too short to see his face.
“Houston, we have problems,” he said, in a high-pitched voice. “Most of you know we are flying a last-minute mission. The nature of the mission is classified. Fortunately, Commander Harper and crew are up for another mission on short notice. Unfortunately for many of you, they will be taking the Harper Device with them. It’s just too dangerous in our atmosphere, and since no one knows why, we have chosen to research the object in a safer environment.”
“Where’s that?” someone asked.
“The Moon.”
The researchers in the crowd murmured in protest. The speaker continued.
“I know, I know. We’ve only had a few weeks to study this Device, and we have more questions than answers. The only thing we’ve learned so far is that the Device doesn’t like research equipment or researchers very much. Niles Chakravorty was able to measure some the Device’s infrared heat signature earlier today, but at a cost. The Device pulsated and threw him across the room. He broke his nose and a collarbone. No pain, no gain, right?” The crowd chuckled, but I gasped. That was Sunjay’s dad, one of the Alliance’s best researchers. So that’s how he broke his nose. He couldn’t even tell Sunjay what really happened.
“Well, if we don’t laugh we’ll probably cry. Research will continue on the Moon. Hopefully the Device will be safer there. I can’t promise you that, but…”
The group kept talking about other space-related things, but nothing more about my dad’s mission. I grew bored. Thunder rumbled and rain started to pound the hangar. Since it was difficult to hear anyway, I decided to get a better look at the Device. There are so many screens that I can hardly see it, but nobody will see me if I slip behind the screens. I skirted the side of the crowd and began my descent through layer after layer of colorful images of the Harper Device. The red glow of the Device got stronger. With each step I took, rain pounded outside on the metal roof and thunder shook the building. I could no longer see or hear anyone else in the hangar. Instead, one hundred screens lit my way toward the Device. The hair on my arms felt prickly.
Just as I reached the last layer of screens, I saw a red mist trailing onto the floor. Then I saw the Harper Device—exactly as it had looked in my dream—like a miniature red planet, swirling and beautiful, with dozens of different shades of reds all blending together on its surface. The cold mist soaked through my shoes. I could smell ozone, like before a thunderstorm. For a moment images of the color red filled my mind: apples, stop signs, fire trucks, fires, planets, flowers, blood, and stars. I caught myself walking closer to the Device with my hand outstretched. A few more steps and I would have touched it, but I came to my senses. Careful, this thing is from another world, I thought. It’s real, not a dream. It was spinning more quickly than in my dream and seemed to be accelerating. The hairs on my arms stood on end. I took a step back.
“Lord have mercy! Anybody else feelin’ that?” I heard Buckshot shout.
At that moment I heard a tremendous boom. Then another. And another. It took me a moment to realize what was happening—lightning was striking the hangar. Over the sound of the rain and booming I heard shouts from the other side of the room. I ran through a layer of screens looking for an exit, but I didn’t get far. With one final tremendous crash, I saw a bolt of lightning break through the ceiling of the hangar. The lightning struck the Harper Device with a sizzle and bang. I didn’t know whether to cover my ears or eyes—the sound and sight were too much. A wave of heat washed over me, and all the lights and screens in the hangar went out. A faint red glow lit the room.
The whole world felt sideways. Because it was. I was on my back instead of my feet. One of my shoes felt really hot. The sole felt gooey, like I stepped on a piece of gum. I tried to lift my foot and realized my shoe was melted to the floor. I yanked it up and pushed myself further back from the Device. In the dark, I started to check my hands and arms to see if I broke any bones. I seemed to be okay, but the fall knocked the wind out of me. The Harper Device shimmered in the dark hangar, the only thing unbothered by the freak weather event.
Then suddenly the thunder and the rain stopped. A moment later the lights and screens all came back on. The room looked exactly as it had before except for a tiny scorched part of the ceiling where the lightning entered the room. Through it I could see blue sky outside, like the storm had never happened.
“Everyone okay?” someone shouted from the group.
“Well, that proves Trackman’s point,” said another voice. “I hate to say it, but we’re in over our heads.”
The Alliance officials were gathering themselves, and I needed to make a quick exit before someone noticed me. I caught my breath and went for the side door, but before I escaped, an iron hand gripped my shoulder from behind. Spinning around I found myself staring into the luminous blue eyes of an Android. Lincoln Sawyer. He stood so motionless for a moment that I thought he was rebooting or something. Finally he blinked three times and dropped his hand from my shoulder.
“Authorized access only, Tully Harper,” he said with a smile.
“Uh, I just wandered in here and realized I was in the wrong place. Sorry about that.”
“You don’t look like you just arrived.” His hands reached for my throat. I flinched, thinking he was going to strangle me. He checked my vital signs instead. “Relax. I’m trained as a medical doctor. Your pulse is 140 beats per minute, but that’s not surprising, considering what we just witnessed.”
“Huh? I didn’t see anything,” I said.
“Oh, you weren’t kno
cked to the floor along with everyone else? Blinded by the lightning?”
“No.”
“Then why are your eyes dilated as if you’ve been staring at the sun? Or the Harper Device?”
“I was outside.”
“Then why aren’t you wet from the rain?”
“Because it’s sunny—now.”
“Ah, and the sun melted your shoe,” he said. “Why did I not think of that? Silly me.”
It was no use. I could lie, but he was a step ahead of me and not buying a single word I was saying. He smiled.
“Ha, you have a lot of nerve to sneak into a secure Space Alliance facility and lie to one of its most trusted employees. Tully, you are trouble, are you not?”
“No, I are not. I mean, I’m not. I’m just curious.”
“Here is the truth: first, you are indeed curious. A true curiosity, if you follow me. Second, you definitely know more about the Harper Device and your father’s next mission than you should.”
“My dad is going on a next mission?” I said, looking to cover my tracks and make a quick escape.
“You surely know about this mission, Tully. I can put two and two together to make four, as they say. I can also tell you the square root of 2 is 1.41421356237.”
“You don’t make any sense,” I said. I decided to leave, but before I had moved half an inch Sawyer put his hand on my shoulder again and held me in place. I wasn’t sure if he anticipated my turn or had amazing reflexes. Either way, he stopped me cold.
