by Adam Holt
“Yes, they would, and Tranquility Base would find him. They would have quite a surprise when they found a missing child in an escape pod,” laughed Trackman. “Yes, it could have come back to haunt us, but this Tully bothers me. He’s your responsibility now. You make sure he keeps his secrets. It’s too early for anyone to discover Operation Close Encounter—and don’t you dare utter that phrase again to anyone.”
“I haven’t,” said the Android.
“Yes, you have.”
They debated the point for a minute. That worked out well, I thought. They’re arguing. As long as I stay quiet about their plans, I’m safe. At least they aren’t going to launch me into space, dead or alive. Maybe my Vision of the body was all wrong, or they had nothing to do with it.
But I realized I was wrong moments later.
“Phase One of Operation Close Encounter ends now,” said Gallant Trackman through his sharp white teeth. “The comet was right on schedule. Now Phase Two. Weaken the crew. The children can be used as pawns. Humans love to protect their young, like any other animal.”
My heart was in my throat. I couldn’t swallow. His words paralyzed me. They had no such effect on Sawyer.
“Yes, sir,” he said. “I know my assignments. Now, if you please, I would like the details of our arrival at LG Alpha.”
“You’re so eager, Sawyer,” said Trackman. “You will receive your reward in full, if it’s really what you want so badly. You will become more human than you will ever believe.”
“When? When? I want to know when!” shouted Sawyer.
At that point, Little Bacon peeked through the vines to get a good luck at Sawyer. A crease appeared between Sawyer’s glowing eyes. An attempted frown, no more effective than an attempted smile. His voice sounded urgent, like he wanted something so badly he could taste it, but Androids can’t taste. Neither could they have real emotions.
“Oh, sir, when and how can I become more human?” mocked Trackman. “Listen to you, begging like a dog, shouting like a child that dropped his ice cream on the sidewalk. I guess you were fabricated just four years ago. You’re a child to me, and about as dangerous. So here’s your answer: soon. Soon is all I will tell you. Simply complete Phase Two, and then we can discuss this again.”
“Certainly. I am sorry, sir. I lost control of my emotions.”
“No, you didn’t. You don’t have emotions. You tried to frighten me into telling you something. It didn’t work. Remember that. You can frighten children, but you can’t frighten me. And you certainly can’t frighten Commander Harper. He will not be easy to deal with, I assure you. If you do as I instructed, everything will go according to plan. Now, begin Phase Two. And change that access code on the cage before you leave. No more trouble from your misguided youth.”
With that, Trackman turned and looked at the Device. Sawyer floated toward the cage, and Little Bacon was smart enough to keep a visual on him. He began punching in a new access code. I memorized the code and quickly realized I had to hide myself! I dove behind one of the black boxes in the cargo hold. I heard the door open and Sawyer stopped right in front of me. I held my breath. I felt the box move. Then the lid opened. He pulled something out, locked the box, and left. I waited a few more minutes behind the box and finally Trackman left, too. I returned to my cage with my mind spinning.
There never was a Conspiracy Game…just a conspiracy. Phase One—something to do with the rogue comet, if that’s what it was. Phase Two—weaken the crew and use us as pawns…
I needed to tell what I knew. Everything. Not yet though. It was late. I couldn’t just go barging through the ship. Trackman and Sawyer might notice. My dad was still mad, my friends were sleeping by now, and I was worn out, too. I needed to get my thoughts in order before I made my move.
CASSANDRA
That night, as I slept on the grass in my orangutan cage, the Red Visions returned. It started like a lot of my dreams—a dark night sky with tiny stars hanging over my head. Actually, I was hanging there in the stars, floating in space. Slowly I began moving, passing bright stars along the way. I watched a gray-black chunk of ice and rock zip by me. The comet. The Adversity appeared next to it. The comet grew a bright tail, but the tail split into glowing tentacles. The ship struggled to break free, but it couldn’t. I saw three people with armor emerge from The Adversity. One held a flaming sword. They launched toward the jellyfish.
Next I was on board The Adversity. All was quiet, but the red haze was so thick I could hardly see. I was looking at something I had already seen—the magnetic walkway. The last time Sawyer was there, but this time it was Gallant Trackman, with a scorpion in his hand. He stood beside a limp body. “My secret friend,” he hissed through his oversized white teeth, turning toward me. The scorpion raised its tail. “Soon, very soon.” The image froze in my head and I couldn’t pull myself away for a moment.
Finally, I found myself back in the space lab. Someone else was in my cage, which was filled with red haze. The figure emerged from the haze. It was Tabitha.
In the background I heard a voice. A familiar voice sang an unfamiliar song:
Boy who doesn’t know his gifts
Girl who flies into the mist
Cassandra cries to the skies
but no one listens anymore.
Blue-eyed demon, green-eyed girl
Man with a plan that changes the world
The hand that holds open the door
will have to let it close.
“Who’s Cassandra? Who closes the door?” I asked. It was as confusing as any Tabism. I floated toward her, but she said nothing to me. Red mist furled around her. She retreated deeper into the cage. No, a hand pulled her deeper back. I reached for her, but the bars were between us. I put my hands on the bars and they began to melt, but I was too late. She and the voice disappeared.
I woke up still and silent, but my head was full of terrible images. Have you ever looked at the sun and then looked away? There’s this strange black spot where the sun used to be. That’s kind of how it was: I could see all those weird images—of jellyfish and walkways and Tabitha—all swirling in front of my open eyes for a moment. They began to fade. I saw my surroundings once again—the cage, the garden, the space lab.
The garden had grown. Lemons, oranges, tomatoes, and jackfruit sprung from the branches and vines. Those were real. That sort of brought me comfort. So did Little Bacon, sitting in my pocket.
“What’s Cassandra, Little Bacon?”
“Cassandra. A small town. A small town in Pennsylvania.”
“No, Cassandra. Isn’t she from mythology?
“Ah, yes, a Greek princess. She is given the gift of prophecy by Apollo.”
“What happened to her?”
“She was a queen and prophetess.”
“What happened to her?”
“She tried to warn the people of Troy about its destruction. She even warned them not to accept the Trojan Horse because it was full of enemy soldiers.”
“She warned them? But didn’t the Trojan Horse work? The Greeks took the horse and the Trojans surprised them and killed them, right?”
“Right. Cassandra warned them. She had the gift of prophecy, but she also had a curse…no one ever believed her words.”
“Well, I would have. I wonder if she dreamed about jellyfish, too.”
“Jellyfish consist of a gelatinous umbrella-shaped bell and trailing tentacles.”
“They sure do.”
“Scientific name—Medusozoa.”
“Really helpful. Thanks.”
“At your service.”
Little Bacon shrugged at me and buried himself back in my pocket. I could only glimpse the Harper Device on the other side of the room, all the plants bending in that direction. I peeked my head around a large vine to see the Device, but it didn’t seem to be doing anything, as usual. I almost felt like it was, well, ignoring me. I turned away and floated toward my skylight to escape the garden for a moment. The Earth was a shiny blue spe
ck in the distance—so small and alone and helpless and lost.
I couldn’t escape the visions. They appeared again as I peered out into the vast field of stars, crazier and scarier than ever. A single figure with a sword. Tabitha yanked into the mist. But the one that troubled me most was the magnetic walkway. I didn’t expect to see it again. I thought I was out of danger, but there it was again—this time with Trackman instead of Sawyer. Was it a vision of the future?
Stars, I hope not, I thought, but at least I’m ready to tell someone about it. I drifted back to sleep.
WHAT HAPPENED IN THE HALLWAY
I was sound asleep near the skylight when a shrill, pulsating sound startled me. An alarm. It was different than the one we heard earlier in the Hamster Wheel. What was it for? The voice of DORIS explained. “Lockdown alert, lockdown alert. Commander Harper and Lincoln Sawyer report to escape pod area. Code Red.”
Escape pods? I nearly jumped out of my skin. Escape pods! The Red Vision came back to me like a lightning bolt. They were about to send my Dad and Sawyer to the escape pod area. What if I’m not the one who dies! I thought. Dad! I pushed myself toward the door.
“A lockdown alert,” said Little Bacon, “suggests that people should take cover, possibly behind a chair or desk in the corner of a classroom.”
I ignored Little Bacon and threw myself out of the cage, floated through the space lab and across the dark cargo hold. Light poured from the hatch to the magnetic walkway. The door was closed. I pushed off one of the walls and threw myself toward the light, with my arms stretched out in front of me like a diver. The alarm grew louder. “Code Red, Code Red,” said DORIS. “Civilians stay in your rooms.” After an eternity I finally reached the magnetic walkway. I have to stop him! I thought. He can’t take my dad!
My chest heaving hard with fear, expecting the worst, but it wasn’t what I imagined. I threw open the hatch and hesitated, not putting my feet down on the walkway yet. On the walkway a tall man swayed lifelessly, attached to the magnetized floor, his arms floating out at his sides like a scarecrow’s. Lincoln Sawyer stood beside the body with something like a remote control and aimed at the lifeless form. Beside Sawyer stood my dad. He was safe, but someone else wasn’t. I didn’t feel surprised—I’d seen this scene before—but I did feel weak and jumpy. I hate to say it, but I also felt relieved—the man suspended in the hallway wasn’t my dad. It was Redshirt Anderson.
My dad was there though, and so was Lincoln Sawyer. They were positioned in the hallway on opposites sides of Anderson’s body, and they seemed to be discussing what had happened to him.
The Android spotted me first. “Tully, please be so good as to return to your cage,” he said, as if he were a flight attendant asking me to put my seat in the upright position.
My dad looked grim but guarded, like he was ready to be attacked. “No, stay, Tully. Whatever happened here, the danger has passed. I could use your help.”
Lincoln couldn’t overrule my dad. My dad moved Lincoln back and gestured me forward. We took the lifeless body between us.
“We’re moving him to the infirmary. Remember when you sprained your ankle? How coach and I helped you off the track?” I understood what he wanted. I pretended that Anderson was just a wounded athlete that needed our help. Lincoln went ahead of us and opened the door to the infirmary, where we laid Anderson’s body on an examination table.
“Please step aside, gentlemen. Thank you kindly,” said Lincoln, putting on a pair of latex gloves. He pulled the gloves on tight and then released them, which made a loud snap. I jumped. Nothing about his demeanor said to me, “Wow, there’s a dead crew member in front of me.” After all, Sawyer was just a machine with artificial intelligence. Trackman said he was emotionless, and that made me sick. It seemed like Anderson deserved something more than an autopsy by a heartless Android, especially one that might have murdered him. Not that I was sure about that.
He motioned for the onboard computer to begin recording. “DORIS, it’s Lincoln Sawyer, here to perform autopsy on crew member Anderson…” he said, preparing for an examination, ignoring my father and me.
“Come on, son. Leave Sawyer to do his duty,” my dad said, pulling me out of the infirmary and into the hall. On the way out, he squeezed Anderson’s arm lightly. I took one last look at Anderson’s gray face, his body strapped to the table, before we left the room.
It was the first time my dad and I had been alone in days, standing on the magnetic walkway. I knew it was time to tell him what I knew.
“Dad, after I touched the Harper Device, something different inside me sort of clicked,” I said.
My dad looked tired. “Son, I’m so sorry you had to see this.”
“But I already saw this. Trackman and Sawyer are plotting against you.”
“Redshirt is gone,” said my dad. “I don’t know how or why. I wish there was something we could do.”
“Yes, there is! The Red Visions. Trackman and Sawyer, they did this—“ but I could tell he wasn’t following me at all. He was looking down the hall to where Redshirt’s body had been floating.
“Redshirt was a good man, Tully. We will do a full investigation of his death.”
“But they did this, dad. I know it!” I urged him, grabbing his sleeve.
“Tully, settle down. Your letting your emotions control you. I understand your feelings, but this is no way to act in a crisis. Trust me. Now, we can’t blame others for no reason.” He paused and ran his hand along his hair. “Also, we shouldn’t raise our voices so loud that everyone on the ship can hear what we’re saying.”
He looked at me like I should understand something, but I didn’t get it.
“The entire universe should hear it!” I yelled. “That Android is in there with the body right now and who knows…”
My dad put up his hand. I stopped and took a breath. He placed a hand on my shoulder. “Son, I think this shook us up a great deal. We’ll have time to talk later about Anderson’s death.”
“You mean murder.”
“I mean for you to return to your cage, where you should have stayed when the alarm sounded,” he said. “I need to make some decisions here. One of my crew is dead and both escape pods have been launched. That means you’re stuck here on board with us, and so is everyone else. Now please follow orders,” he said, turning back toward the Flight Deck. “Collect yourself. Then go find your friends.”
What could I do? Redshirt was murdered, our chances of escape were gone, and my dad wanted me to collect my thoughts. I thought he would do something! I turned to go without saying another word, angry and confused and disappointed. The one time I could help my Dad, and he didn’t want to hear a single word.
Instead, he had one last thing to say.
“Tully, remember what I told you when we went on that walk,” he said, looking back at me. We were exiting the walkway on separate ends. “Remember my words.”
The garden seemed to be growing by the hour. I had to push a few vines out of the way to make it down the corridor. Almost invisible behind all those vines was the Device.
The stupid Harper Device.
“Hey, gas ball! What good is a vision if nobody will listen to it, huh?” I muttered across the garden. “Yeah, I’m talking to you, you red freak. What are you, some sort of reject planet? You make my brain go all haywire and all for what, huh? I should never have come out here.”
Why had I come out here anyway? It had been a stupid idea. Exploring the universe with my dad and bringing along a brainy drama queen and my so-called best friend. Like that would really be fun. Sunjay was right to doubt this. So was Tabitha. The best we could hope for now was to survive long enough to find out about Operation Close Encounter. Most likely it would be the last thing we would ever learn. I locked myself in the cage.
Remember my words, my dad said. I couldn’t remember anything just then, but his words kept wandering through my head, along with all the Red Visions.
I launched away from the floor and hea
ded toward the skylight, hoping a good look at the stars would clear my head. Instead, my head hit the skylight because I pushed myself too hard. I cursed. Then I realized I was acting like a lunatic. I forgot about the walk completely until then, but I finally remembered a key word: objective.
That walk we took near our house. It was a month ago. My dad told me to leave my holophone behind. Why? Because you never know who could be listening. Then he said that this mission needed him as commander. He told me about his objective.
Objectives! There were two. The first—the Alliance wanted to repair a space station. But he also had a personal objective. He needed to get the Harper Device off the planet before something terrible happened, and he had his own plan for that. What was his plan?
In the midst of all the other things that had happened on board, I lost track of my dad’s objective.
The escape pods. Oh, stars! I thought. We didn’t just need those for the rescue mission. Dad was going to launch the Harper Device in the escape pod, and now he can’t. We might accomplish the mission objective and save the space station, but his objective has failed.
Things were getting clearer now. His plan wouldn’t work.
He knows we are all in danger now. Does he think it wasn’t an accident? Why wouldn’t he listen to me? He just kept trying to shut me up.
I stared back at the Earth, a tiny blue marble in the distance, and stewed over how badly things turned. I half-expected to see Sawyer float down the corridor at any moment, snapping a pair of latex gloves.
Nothing happened for a long time. I floated around, looked out the skylight, puzzled through all the scraps of information I had about our situation. Occasional announcements from DORIS startled me.
I thought about Redshirt, how he played basketball with us and cheered up Tabitha. He was a really good dad. It just didn’t seem fair. Thinking about his kids back on Earth really saddened me, but then sadness turned to anger when I pictured Trackman and Sawyer, all their scheming. If only I had known how bad things would get.
Time passed.
