by Adam Holt
“Yes, a perfectly normal orangutan,” said the Android. I backed away from the sound of his voice—it had a probing quality, like he could see right through my suit. “But that’s not what I’m here to show you.” They moved past my cage, but the Android continued looking at me. “This gauge right here shows the oxygen levels in the ship. Not that I care very much about oxygen, since I don’t need to breathe it myself…”
Trackman rolled his beady eyes and threw up his hands. “Oh, splendid! I always wanted to know what that gauge was for. Oxygen. Wow. And you don’t even need any? Of course not, you inorganic fool. We’re done here.” Trackman turned to leave, but Sawyer didn’t move.
“Sir, we are not done here. You will hear this. The brains, as you call yourself, need to know something. None of the crew has noticed yet, but we are 2.94% above expected oxygen use levels. We are using more oxygen than we should.”
Trackman looked annoyed. “Which means?” he said.
“Which means we may have an oxygen leak; however, another possibility is that we have uninvited guests on board.”
That startled me, and for a split second, Sawyer glanced at me. It felt like he was toying with me somehow—or maybe I was just worried about getting caught.
“Orrrrr,” said Trackman, “it may mean nothing. That’s the problem with you Androids. You’re smart, polite, strong, can follow directions, but you don’t know how to focus on the right things. So there’s a rat or a possum or a unicorn on board. Big deal! We’ll feed them to Scrubbles here.” He tapped on my cage.
“You are probably correct, sir. It may be nothing.”
“Leave me now, Android.”
Sawyer left. Trackman stayed behind. He floated over to the Harper Device for a moment. “Oh, the plans I have for you, the places you will go. If only they knew how valuable you are,” he said, looking at the Device, sucking air through his teeth. It was a creepy habit. Fortunately he didn’t talk to himself for very long. He left me alone at last.
I didn’t know what to make of their conversation. What had I just heard? A distraction? The base on the far side of the Moon? Operation Close Encounter? A speech on earning someone’s trust? The whole conversation made me feel very alone, like I heard a mean joke about someone, and maybe the joke was on me. Or my dad.
You’re all alone out here, Tully, said the small voice in my head. The Android will figure this out and Trackman will probably make Tully Stew out of you.
But I pushed that voice out of my head. I had learned to do that much. Androids don’t eat meat either, and I had friends on board.
Sunjay and Tabitha. The thought of them calmed me down a bit. We needed to make contact. A few days more and we could come out of hiding without being launched home, but I needed to talk to them now. Sunjay would ask the right questions. I needed Tabitha to come up with solutions. I might even need to tell my dad about Operation Close Encounter. But to do any of that, I needed my freedom. The only problem? A locked cage.
“MY SECRET FRIEND”
A few hours later I was still pondering all these problems when someone opened the hatch at the end of the dark corridor. Sylvia? I thought. In the dark of the far end, I could only make out a shadow and two bright blue eyes. Floating toward my cage was Lincoln Sawyer. He stopped in front of my cage, smiled politely, and folded his hands behind his back. He stayed there for a minute, as still as if he was made of wax. I pretended to play chess by myself and let him study me. Finally he sprang to life, speaking in a polite, even tone, like a waiter at a five-star restaurant.
“Uh, Scrubbles, could we talk for a moment? I heard you have been acting strangely—not taking down your visor, eating meals in private. Space will do that to an orangutan, I suppose. Anyway, I brought you something that might make you feel more at home.”
I turned my head and looked at him. He pulled a cheeseburger from behind his back. A cheeseburger! Wrapped halfway in foil, I could see the steaming meat patty and cheese melting on the edges. The suit insulated me from the smell, but my mind recalled the aroma of a cheeseburger just fine. Next he produced some sour gummy worms from his jumpsuit pocket. They were crusted with all that beautiful sour sugary stuff, some of which floated through the bars of the cage. Man, I love candy. I didn’t realize that I was drifting forward with an outstretched hand. I came to my senses and tried to think like an orangutan, but the damage was done.
“Hungry, my friend? You don’t have to hide now. I guessed you weren’t an orangutan earlier. When I said we had uninvited guests on board, you jumped. You reacted like an uninvited guest, and therefore my suspicions were confirmed. Of course, I wasn’t sure of your identity, but Sylvia Moreline showed me something that solved this puzzle. A particular Handroid that I had seen before. Unlimited memory comes in handy in times like these. Of course, who else might fit into an orangutan-sized spacesuit? Probably a 5’2”, 105-pound teenager, with a slight build and light brown hair. I thought candy would prove irresistible to you. Yes, a simple equation for me to solve, but what a plan! I was right about you. You’ve got nerve, Tully Harper.”
From behind my visor, I said nothing. Nothing. What could I say? He stuck out the hamburger and sour gummy worms again. “This hamburger was also made with the brand-new organic 3D printer. This particular recipe was highly recommended. If only I had taste sensors. Haha. You must be in shock. You just overheard my conversation with Mr. Trackman. Part of a game we play. I can explain later. Just eat your burger before it gets cold.”
“What are you going to do with me?” I asked in a muffled voice.
“Feed you, Tully. I kept your secrets once, did I not? I see no reason to change my course of action. You can stay in hiding. If anything, I thought you could eat your hamburger and then get some exercise with me. Please accept this food as a token of my trust.”
“How did you know I loved gummy worms?”
“You don’t remember? That day in the hangar you had a light crusting of sugar on your fingertips. When you tried to escape my grasp, you touched my jacket. I analyzed the sample and discovered its origins. These are also fresh off the organic printer.”
Darn Android! I flipped up my visor and took off my gloves. I didn’t have much choice. After a few days of fruit, my stomach growled at me like an angry Doberman. The burger tasted so good that I ate half the wrapper. Sawyer looked amused—not that Androids can feel amusement. He punched the code on the cage and let me out.
“Good to see you still have an appetite. By all means, bring your gummy worms with you. Would you like a bit of fresh air? The Hamster Wheel is free right now.”
A burger, my favorite candy, and a trip to the Hamster Wheel? I felt like a fool for getting caught, but apparently my secret was safe with the Android.
We pushed ourselves from the space lab floor toward a small hatch on the ceiling that led into the Hamster Wheel. Moments later we stood beside each other in an enormous curved room with thirty-foot ceilings. Along the walls were windows, and between the windows were screens that showed movies, concert, lectures, sports, anything you wanted. All sorts of exercise equipment lined the walls—weights, jump ropes, yoga mats, basket/foot/volleyballs, but I had my eyes on the half-court basketball court.
“We’re at normal gravity right now. Try to jump.” I jumped and didn’t go very high, which was normal for me.
“So this is 1G—normal gravity,” I said.
“Yes, we produce this with centrifugal force. You can’t feel it, but the Hamster Wheel is spinning around The Adversity right now, about one rotation every thirty seconds.”
“My dad told me about this before. He said the Hamster Wheel helps astronauts survive.”
“If humans don’t experience normal gravity, they run into problems. They lose muscle. Their bones become weaker. Humans need to exercise daily to avoid this. That’s why we’re here. We could also try 2G.” He turned the switch again. Nothing happened quickly, but I started to feel heavy. I took off the space suit. Still, I felt twice my weight
.
“So that’s what 210 pounds feels like,” I started to sweat. “Can we do 1/2G?”
“Certainly.” After a few minutes I felt like I was on my trampoline in Houston. I jumped and almost touched the ceiling—about 30 feet from the floor. I bounded toward the basketball court. Grabbing a ball, I took off from the 3-point line and dunked. Then I tried some of the crazy dunks that mascots during halftime shows—a windmill dunk, a back flip, and a flipping two-handed jam. I tossed a ball up in the air and yelled, “Hey, Sawyer, what can you do?” He stood motionless at first, and then with incredible speed he launched toward the ceiling. He caught the ball on the way up, pushed off the ceiling, and on the way down threw the ball through the hoop. The net barely moved, and the ball hit the floor so hard that it bounced back to the ceiling. He landed, bowed, and caught the ball behind his back without looking.
“Whoa,” I said, as he tossed me the ball. “I don’t even know if that was a dunk, but it was pretty insane.”
“Thanks, I believe.”
“I could get used to this.”
“Yes, you could, but your legs would get weak. 1G is best.”
I was pretty warmed up by then. Sawyer switched back to 1G. I felt like a human again. He walked over to a stand and picked up a stick.
“This is a bo staff,” he said. He put the staff in front of his face and pretended to attack an invisible opponent with amazing speed. Then he spun the staff over his head like a propeller and brought it down on the floor with a whack. “Do you want a lesson?”
“I know how to use these. Sort of. My friend Sunjay taught me. He likes martial arts.”
“Oh, and where is he?”
“He’s back in Houston,” I lied. “I thought you could figure that out.”
He tossed me a staff and backed away. He spun the weapon above his head again, then put the staff behind his back, where it kept spinning like a helicopter blade. The amazing feat distracted me so much that I held my staff loosely—until he spun his staff forward and knocked the weapon from my hands. Then he tapped me on the head with the staff.
“Rule #1: never let your guard down, Tully. Round One is over.”
“Hey, I didn’t know we began Round One! Let’s see how I do in Round Two.”
We tried again. This time I chopped at him with all my might. When he counterattacked, I fought off a few blows but couldn’t keep up. He whacked me on the head harder.
“Take it easy!” I said, rubbing my head.
“Rule #2: No pain, no gain,” he said. “Science tells us that people learn how to avoid pain. This should make things a bit more fun for you.” He switched the wheel to 1/2 gravity again. My legs felt great. Without warning he attacked, and this time I kept him away. He chopped at my staff with more force, but he couldn’t get through my defenses. I jumped one of his attacks and landed on the basketball hoop. “You defend better in low gravity. We will call Round Three a draw.”
“Thanks,” I said, standing on the basketball hoop. I looked down at him and remembered the strange conversation from earlier. “So what is this game with Trackman? You talked about the far side of the Moon and my dad.”
“Ah, yes. I apologize for not explaining. On every trip the Space Alliance plays ‘The Conspiracy Game.’ Two crewmembers pretend to be conspirators—or bad guys—and they make up a plan to take over the ship. The other crewmembers must find out who they are. As you may have guessed, Mr. Trackman and I are playing the conspirators. It is rather amusing. Sort of a game for Rule #1.”
“Never let your guard down.”
“Correct. Of course, I cannot tell you much more about our plan. Commander Harper and his crew are quite adept at finding conspirators.”
“Well, I made it on board. Maybe they’re not that good.” I stood on the basketball hoop and thought about it for a moment. The Conspiracy Game made sense—the Alliance kept the crew “on their toes” with games. My dad liked games, but I had more questions. “You said something about the far side of the Moon?”
He paused, like he was performing a calculation. “Listen closely. I will tell you something you do not know. Beyond the Moon there is a secret space station called LG Alpha. You see, it is located at a Lagrangian Point, which is an area in space with almost no gravitational pull. This particular point, technically known as Lagrangian Point Two, is our destination.”
“So let me get this straight. The Lagrangian Point is sort of a dead place in space where you can leave stuff and it won’t float away?”
“That is a basic understanding, yes.”
“And the Alliance has a secret station there?”
“Yes.”
“Why did they do all this?”
“Because the Alliance has big plans for deep space exploration. We have bases on Mars, and the moons of Jupiter are next. LG Alpha will be a fueling station on the way to those distant places. Also, it’s an excellent observatory. There’s a clear view of the rest of the solar system. Maybe too clear.”
“How could it be too clear?”
“Never mind,” he said. “Any other questions?”
“How did the Space Alliance keep it a secret? Anyone with a telescope could probably find it.”
“That is true, but LG Alpha has an advance cloaking device. It is invisible from Earth. One would have to get quite close to actually see it.”
“So you’re worried this secret, invisible space station is destroyed?”
“Androids don’t worry, Tully, but we have lost contact with the station. It may be damaged or destroyed.”
It all seemed to make sense with what I already knew. I wanted to ask Sawyer some more questions—especially about the Lagrangian Point—but he didn’t give me a chance. Before I could react, he dashed under me and hit the basketball hoop. It cracked in half. I fell, and before I hit the ground, Sawyer swept my legs out from under me. I landed on my back. A second later his staff was on my throat. I thought for a second this was the end, but he withdrew and pulled me back to my feet.
“No fair!” I yelled. “We were talking.”
“Rule #1”
“That hurt!”
“Rule #2.”
“Yeah, no pain, no gain. Thanks for the lessons.”
“You should be returning to your cage now anyway, my secret friend.”
We exited the Hamster Wheel, but before he locked me in the orangutan cage, Sawyer wanted to make a deal.
“Tully, I will propose this: we keep each other’s secrets. It’s in everyone’s best interests. Mr. Trackman and I need to play The Conspiracy Game, and you want to play the orangutan as long as you can, don’t you?”
“Definitely.”
“Then I have your trust?” he asked.
“Isn’t that what you wanted from my dad for The Conspiracy Game?”
“Of course.”
“Okay,” I nodded and put on my helmet. He smiled. It looked like such a human smile.
“Now, if there’s nothing more to be said, Commander Harper is expecting me in the Flight Deck. Ah, yes, what do you need?”
My friends! I held up my hand to stop him. Then I pointed to the cage door.
“How long do you need to be out?” I held up four fingers. “Four hours? If you’re caught, you cannot share our secrets.” He hit a few buttons on the cage door and I floated out beside him.
“Here’s the sequence to access the cage,” he said. “Your next feeding is at 7 o’clock, so you have the afternoon outside the cage. I wouldn’t wander far though. No one expects to see Scrubbles wandering around The Adversity. Maybe Queen Envy would enjoy your presence though. Her album isn’t going very well.”
I nodded yes.
“Oh! Queen Envy. You want to see her. Well, I could accompany you there, if you like.”
He grabbed my shoulder in his powerful, Android grip. We were face to face. His long, gaunt face reminded me of every picture I ever saw of Abraham Lincoln, except for his eyes that shined with a cold, blue light. “It would be ever so unpleas
ant if we were caught,” he said, “but you seem to be ever so good at keeping secrets.”
Something about him made me nervous. We trusted each other, I guess, but I would need to remember Rule #1 around him. We headed down the corridor to visit Queen Envy in her cabin, and hopefully two good friends.
THE CELEBRITY SNOWGLOBE
Floating out of the space lab, Sawyer and I passed through a door that led into the cargo bay. The Adversity’s supplies were all packed into boxes and cylinders that were held to the wall magnetically. The Android must have read my thoughts.
“Impressive, isn’t it? Everything is labeled and color-coded: green for food; blue for drink; purple for parts; gold for Queen Envy; and black for military hardware.” It was all well ordered but dire crowded. The Android made his way smoothly through the obstacle course of cargo, but it was harder for me. Just one good push off the top of a container and I was flying to the ceiling or the floor. I read the colored cargo labels on my way: “Orangutan food,” “thruster rebuild kit,” “Queen Envy’s acting props,” “Restricted—Commander Access Code Required.”
Once through the bay, we came to a long corridor with red carpet. Lincoln went first. Feet first. As he landed, his feet seemed to stick to carpet. Oh, the magnetic walkway. Sunjay had pointed out this feature in the blueprints. My feet contacted the carpet with a thud, and suddenly I felt like I was walking on a floor covered with glue. We clomped down the corridor.
I could feel and hear something, too. It was hard to identify at first, but then I recognized it—drums.
“Well, here we are.” Lincoln stopped in front of a gold door. “Queen Envy is listening to music right now, as you probably noticed. I don’t think she’ll mind the interruption though.”
The airlock slid open and several pairs of shiny pants and shoes began floating into the walkway. Lincoln caught them, gave those items a polite shove back into the room, and shoved me in as well.
