by Gregory Mone
Kaya walked forward slowly and raised her hand in greeting. “Hi, Dad.”
19
The Secret of Atlantis
Her dad’s hair was blond and long. More wizard than surfer, though. His pale, unwrinkled skin made it hard for Lewis to guess his age. Maybe a little older than Lewis’s dad? His chin stuck out farther than normal, and his nose turned sharply down at its midpoint, as if someone had flattened it with a spatula. A really heavy spatula. There was something unusual about his eyes, too. They were an icy blue, almost arctic. The small gap between his front teeth probably made it really easy to floss.
Under the great factory dome, Kaya’s dad swung around to face Demos. “Why didn’t you tell me my daughter was involved?”
“You would have acted emotionally, not rationally,” Demos answered. He motioned to the warships below them. “You have very important work to finish here. We couldn’t afford to have you distracted by problems at home, so we intercepted all communications between you and your daughter, and your mother-in-law, too.”
“You what?”
“This was merely an invasion of your privacy,” Demos said. “We have much bigger invasions to worry about.”
“Wait a second,” Hanna said. “That’s your dad, Kaya? I thought you said he was going to help us.”
“Apparently I was wrong,” Kaya said.
“Kaya, please—”
“No, let me talk,” she continued. “I don’t understand. I thought you were an engineer.”
“I am an engineer,” her father replied.
“One of the finest in Atlantis,” Demos added. He held his arms out and up. “This factory was his design. Thanks to your father, and your weak-willed friend Naxos, we were able to build the most advanced fleet this planet has ever seen.”
Kaya’s dad was barely listening. He was staring at her. “I never lied to you.”
“You didn’t tell me you work for the Erasers!”
Still hiding behind Hanna, Lewis cut in, “That’s kind of like lying.”
“Definitely,” Hanna added.
Weed Chin and Mrs. Finkleman pointed their weapons at Lewis and Hanna. “Stand up,” Finkleman ordered.
Hanna refused. She held out her two sonic blasters like some kind of futuristic outlaw.
Then Weed Chin turned his weapon toward Kaya.
Reluctantly, Hanna placed her blasters on the floor.
Slowly, carefully, she and Lewis moved next to Kaya.
Demos pointed at Lewis’s wristpad. “I’m glad you brought that with you, boy. We made a mistake in not searching your father closely enough when he joined us.” He held out his hand. “Give it to me. Now.”
“No,” Kaya insisted. Lewis jumped a little; her voice had more power than usual. “Don’t give him anything, Lewis.” She shook her head and stared back at her dad. “How could you?”
“Kaya, please,” her dad said. “I’ll explain everything in time. I assure you, it will all make sense.”
“How is this going to make sense? You’re an Eraser! You told me the Sun People were a myth, but you knew they were real all along. Why?”
“To protect you, Kaya! My work with the High Council is critical to the survival of Atlantis. Please, just leave these creatures to the care of my associates.”
“Creatures? They’re not creatures! They’re people!”
“Kaya,” her dad replied, waving for her to come closer. “These Sun People . . . they’re not who you think they are.”
“Neither are you.”
“This will make sense if you let me explain.”
Hanna interfered. “Then explain.”
Kaya’s dad glanced at his colleagues. “Not here.”
“What’s there to explain, anyway?” Hanna asked. “You people locked us in prison, and we didn’t even do anything. We just want to go home.”
“We can’t let you go home,” Demos said. “You have seen far too much. But I will gladly return you both to your cell.”
Kaya’s dad lowered his voice. “I promise we won’t hurt them if they cooperate, Kaya.”
“What about my father?” Lewis asked.
“We’ll find him, too,” Demos said.
That meant they hadn’t found him yet.
That meant he could still be alive.
“And you won’t hurt him?” Hanna asked.
“No,” Demos answered. “He is far too valuable. Heron, please, order your daughter to step away from these sunstruck invaders.”
Wait. What? Lewis couldn’t just let this go. “Your name’s Heron?” he asked.
“Yes,” Kaya’s father replied. “Why?”
“I mean, you’re named after a bird, and you live underwater. It’s weird.”
“It is,” Hanna added.
Kaya’s dad shook his head. “I’m named after a what?”
“Enough!” Demos shouted. “Heron, order your daughter to come here now!”
“You’re not ordering her to do anything,” Hanna snapped back.
Kaya’s voice was shaky when she replied. “Please, Dad, just let them go home.”
Her dad’s face softened again. The way he looked at her—his expression was filled with love. Tenderness. Even Mrs. Finkleman appeared moved in some way, or maybe confused by this whole exchange between father and daughter. But Demos? Weed Chin and the others? Not so much. They were clearly ready and willing to toss Lewis and Hanna straight back into that underwater prison.
Heron’s shoulders sagged, as if the strength were leaking out of him. “You don’t understand, Kaya . . .”
“You keep saying that, but I do understand! Hanna and Lewis and the professor shouldn’t be locked in a cell. They should be celebrated! We should be telling all of Atlantis their story. If people knew the truth—”
“The truth?” Her father practically smacked her words back at her. A change came over him. The gentleness was gone. “The truth is that your two friends come from a world more violent than you could ever imagine. Their wars against each other have resulted in the deaths of millions of their own people.”
“More,” Weed Chin added.
“That doesn’t mean we should lock the first ones we meet in a cell!”
“They’ve hurt us, too, Kaya,” Heron said, his voice gentler now. “You and me.”
“I know.”
“You know what?” Hanna asked.
Kaya took a long, deep breath before explaining. “I know that my mother was killed on a peaceful mission to the surface when her ship was destroyed by the People of the Sun.”
Her dad was stunned.
Demos was silent.
Lewis was shocked, too. Why hadn’t she mentioned this? Had she known the whole time? He couldn’t believe it was true. There had to be some kind of mistake.
“The submarine off New York,” Hanna said. She elbowed Lewis. “Your dad’s theory—he was right!”
Sure, maybe, but this wasn’t the time to celebrate.
Not if Kaya had lost her own mother in the incident.
Heron could barely utter a reply. “How did you—”
“Grandmother,” Kaya explained. “She told me everything.”
“What’s passed has passed,” Demos declared. “Kaya, we don’t do our work out of hatred or anger toward the People of the Sun. We do so out of love for our own people. This is why the High Council exists. For our survival. For the survival of Atlantis.” He held out his hand, palm up, and stared at Lewis. “The wristpad. Give it to me now.”
“Wait,” Kaya said. She lowered her face into her hands, then dropped them to her sides with her palms facing the floor. She exhaled. “Let me talk to you, Dad, please. Just give me a moment? That’s all.”
“They’re not going anywhere,” Finkleman added. “Might as well.”
Demos glared at her for speaking out of turn, but then he nodded, giving his approval, and Kaya stepped aside with her father. Lewis watched them closely. How was she going to help them now, exactly? Her father didn’t seem lik
e the sort to change his mind. Plus he wasn’t even the one in charge. Lewis glanced over at Demos. The aged Atlantean was picking his nose with his pinkie finger. That didn’t mean he wasn’t powerful, though. It just meant he didn’t have a tissue.
Finkleman was squinting in their direction, studying them again. “How old are you?” she asked.
Demos stopped his surgery. “Quiet,” he snapped. “Say another word to these infiltrators and you can join them in their cell.”
Kaya’s voice rose, pulling the Erasers’ attention away.
“We need to do something,” Hanna whispered.
Sure, but what? Miles of water stood between them and the surface.
Lewis wondered if they could call for help somehow. But he didn’t even know if this was possible, and for that he blamed his classmate Ashley. They’d learned about sound and radios in science class earlier that year, but Mr. Brush had sat him right behind Ashley, and he’d wasted the whole unit trying not to look at her long curly hair. If only he had listened!
Now Demos watched him through narrowed eyes.
Lewis stared up at the huge dome. He thought of the probes that supposedly scoured the oceans, searching for this place.
Atlantis was safe because it was hidden.
The last thing the Erasers wanted was someone broadcasting their position to the surface. That would terrify them.
A few steps away, Weed Chin was staring at his wristpad.
Demos was studying it, too.
The tech was a mystery to the Atlanteans.
Almost magical.
“I’ve got an idea,” he muttered.
“Does it involve dancing?” Hanna asked.
“No,” Lewis replied. “Will you back me up?”
“Sure?”
“Shut your mouths!” Weed Chin barked.
“Just say smart stuff, okay?” he added.
Hanna looked at him like he’d grown a third nostril. On his forehead. “Huh?”
Weed Chin and another Eraser started toward them. Lewis held up his hands. “I’m sorry. No more. We’ll be quiet now. I promise.”
“Then stop talking,” Demos replied.
“I will.”
“Now,” Weed Chin growled.
“Ri—”
Lewis stopped short and pretended to zip his lips shut. Now the Atlanteans were the ones looking at him like he had a third nostril. Did they not have zippers down here? Nearby, Kaya’s voice rose again. She and her father were arguing, and Hanna kept looking at Lewis, as if she were trying to read his mind, or find some clue to his plan. But he was thinking. Rehearsing, really.
The argument between Kaya and her father faded; she was staring at the floor now, slouching, as he did all the talking.
“Heron,” Demos said, “we’re tired of waiting.”
Lewis was tired of waiting, too. He nodded to Hanna. She shrugged, confused.
Then he held his forearm out in front of his chest and hung his right index finger inches from the screen of the wristpad. He breathed in. He needed to sound powerful. Convincing. Heroic. He stared down Demos. “Tell them—” His voice cracked. He started over. “Tell them to lower their weapons.”
Demos squinted, eyeing the wristpad. “Why would I do that?”
Lewis was shaking slightly. “Because all I have to do is touch my finger to this screen,” he said, “and this wristpad will send a rescue signal out into the ocean—one that gives our exact location.”
He paused, waiting. Kaya and her father had turned to listen.
Everyone was silent. Heron whispered something to Demos.
The old man laughed. “The dome is soundproof, you imbecile.”
Okay. That was bad.
Where was Hanna with the smart stuff? He tried to kick her foot, but she was a little too far away. “Do you want to explain it to him, Hanna?”
She glared confidently at Heron. “You claim to be an engineer—”
“I am an engineer.”
For a second, Lewis felt bad. This was Kaya’s dad they were messing with.
Then again, Kaya’s dad was trying to get them thrown back in prison.
His brain hurt.
“Well, that wristpad won’t simply transmit our location,” Hanna continued. “Once Lewis presses that screen, all of the data on the professor’s wristpad—all the video and audio recordings and images he captured in these last few days, including our current location—all of it will be shared with the surface. Everyone under the sun will be able to see what we’ve seen and hear what we’ve heard. They’ll know where we are and how to find you.”
“That’s impossible,” Heron replied. “The dome will block the sound.”
“But this technology doesn’t use sound,” Hanna replied. She breathed out heavily. “I’m sorry,” she said sarcastically, “I keep forgetting how little you know about radiation. That wristpad pumps out powerful low-frequency radio waves. My mother invented this device, actually. It’s pretty amazing. She’s not always the best mother, since she’s so busy all the time, but now that I’ve been away from her, from them—” Lewis edged closer and kicked her. She was getting sentimental now, of all times? He pointed to the screen. She shook her head. “Right. So, anyway, it doesn’t use sound, and you’re correct—if it did, we’d be in trouble. But at the moment, you’re the ones who are in danger. Once Lewis here presses that touch screen, those radio waves will instantly propagate through the sea.”
Propa-what? Lewis didn’t understand half of what she’d just said.
Which was absolutely perfect.
He almost wanted to applaud. There had been a quick and unexpected crack in Hanna’s impenetrable emotional armor, but now she was herself again. Brilliant and logical.
“Once I touch this screen,” Lewis finished, “the secret of Atlantis will be out.”
The Erasers were silent.
Heron’s eyes were locked on the wristpad.
Demos was squinting at Lewis.
“You’re lying,” Kaya’s father replied.
The rest of the Erasers—all but Mrs. Finkleman—raised their deadly trumpets and frightening trombones.
Hanna wasn’t finished. Now that she’d started spinning and weaving this beautiful, complex scientific lie, she couldn’t stop. “Maybe I should simplify it slightly, since you probably wouldn’t understand all the technical details. Your work with gravity and sound is truly impressive, but electronics?” She winced. “Not so sharp, guys. You Atlanteans really have some catching up to do on that end.”
Offended, Heron replied, “Our technology is far more advanced than—”
“I figured out your gravity drives,” Hanna said with a shrug. “Took me . . . what? Fifteen minutes?”
“Less,” Lewis said.
“She fixed up a busted blaster, too,” Kaya added. “I’d believe them, Dad.”
“I can explain more if that would make it easier for you,” Hanna said. “The signals will first be picked up by communication drones near the surface, then relayed wirelessly through the air. Once that happens, the information will travel at the speed of light. Three hundred million meters per second, in case you didn’t know. I can see already that this is too complex for you. I’m sorry—I’m really trying to keep it simple. Basically, though, I estimate that it will take three or four seconds before the most powerful nations on the surface know the location of Atlantis.” She nodded to Lewis. She was kind of taking over his plan now. He hoped that if it did work, she’d remember that this was all his idea. It’s not like he was going to interrupt her, though. There was an old saying about a rolling stone—you weren’t supposed to lie down in front of it. Or maybe that wasn’t the lesson. Anyway, he lowered his finger so that it almost touched the screen. “Of course, if you don’t believe me,” Hanna continued, “Lewis is happy to demonstrate.”
His heart was pounding like a kick drum.
He was struggling to keep his finger from shaking.
Weed Chin was insisting that Hanna and Le
wis were lying.
Good old Mrs. Finkleman wasn’t so sure. She started pleading with Demos to believe them. “There’s too much to lose!” she said. “Besides, they’re just children.”
“That’s enough from you,” Demos snapped.
Heron’s face was contorted, as if he was thinking through every step.
Hanna started counting down. “Ten . . . nine . . . eight . . .”
Don’t get to seven, Lewis thought.
“Seven . . . six . . . five . . .”
Stop at four. Four would be fine.
Please, please, please stop her at four.
But Hanna kept counting, and the Atlanteans waited.
Normally, Lewis didn’t pray all that much. His dad wasn’t very religious, and his mom and Roberts only dragged them to church on holidays. But now Lewis began to pray. Not to any particular god or goddess or ancient spirit. He was begging all of them. The Big Guy, with the beard and the robes and the throne on the clouds, the Greek and Roman gods, the cool Hindu ones, including that really smart elephant—even the Aztec spirit with the hard-to-say name, the one that sort of rhymed with pretzel. He pleaded with any and all mystical beings for help.
Meanwhile, Hanna was depending on herself, and the fears of the Atlanteans.
She was down to three.
Two.
“Well then, world,” she said, nodding to Lewis, as if giving him a final order, “let us introduce you to the secrets of Atlantis—”
Heron placed his hand on Demos’s shoulder. He whispered something in his ear.
“Wait,” Demos ordered, his voice firm but calm.
Wait? This was good. This meant . . . their trick was working?
Yes. Demos was holding up both hands now, pleading with Lewis not to touch that screen. The pretzel god had listened. Or the elephant, or one of the Greeks.
Weed Chin was outraged. “They’re lying!”
“One tap,” Hanna said.
“That’s right,” Lewis added. “All it takes is one touch.”
“What do you want?” Demos asked.
“Let them go,” Kaya insisted. “Allow them to reach the surface and return home safely.”
“Right,” Lewis added. “What she said.”
“Is that all you want?” her dad asked.
