“I’m going back to my room,” Devin said. He was breathing rapidly now.
“Wait just a couple more minutes. I want to try to talk to it.” Trevor drummed on the side of the pod. “Hey, Morlock, can you understand me?”
“It’s not Morlock. And banging on that pod is no different than banging on an aquarium.”
Trevor looked back, scrunching his eyebrows. “What’s wrong with banging on an aquarium?” He brought his hand back, ready to pound once again, but stopped within inches of the metal. “Why are you still standing all the way over there? Are you scared or something?”
“I’m not scared!”
“Then take a look.” Trevor moved to one side. “Don’t you want good footage?”
Devin felt queasy. He had no desire to look inside now that it was occupied by that thing, but he couldn’t let Trevor think he was afraid. He slowly approached the hive.
“It’s not going to get you,” Trevor said. “It’s trapped inside.”
“I know that!” Devin leaned forward and pressed his face against the glass.
The insect-like creature stood near the back of the pod, trying to stretch its limbs within the cramped confines. Tall and slender, with skin like black, polished leather, its shoulders would’ve skimmed the ceiling had it not been purposely bending its knees. It wore a solid piece of shimmering fabric draped down from its waist, which covered the majority of its lower body.
“Holy cow,” Devin whispered. The creature cocked its head, as if curious, studying Devin as a snake might do with a small child gawking at it in a pet store. In an instant, Devin leapt back at least a foot, the warnings of a scream catching in his throat.
Trevor grinned, nudging Devin with his elbow. “He’s a beast, huh?”
“Yeah, definitely.” Devin moved backward away from the hive, his rear end bumping into the computer desk.
“Are you all right? You’re shaking.”
Devin scowled at Trevor. “I’m fine.” But he wasn’t fine. At that moment, Devin felt the worst kind of tingling in his chest, as if something bad was about to happen.
Trevor once again peered into the hive. “Geez, he’s gotta be seven feet tall, don’t you think?”
“Seven and a half,” someone announced from the other side of the room.
Devin whirled around, clutching his hand against his chest. A man with a pair of dark-rimmed glasses and a mustache stood in the open doorway. He was thin and wearing tan slacks and a button-up collared shirt.
“I—uh—I didn’t touch anything,” Devin stammered, sliding away from the computer.
“It’s all right, Devin,” the man said.
Devin’s shoulders slumped. He knows my name. They were so busted!
“Hey, you’re the guy from that virtual video Doug showed us earlier.” Trevor glanced away from the window and snapped his fingers. “You’re Doug’s brother, Terry.”
“That’s correct,” the man said, and then pointed to the hive next to Trevor. “So what do you think? Impressive, isn’t he?”
“Oh yeah,” Trevor said. “He’s like the coolest thing I’ve ever seen. How did you make him?”
Terry Castleton walked casually into the room and approached the table where Devin stood trying to make himself invisible. “I can’t take credit for him, though I did help some in the design. Relax, son, you’re making me nervous with the way you’re holding your breath.”
Devin exhaled, puffing out his cheeks and eyeing the door. “We shouldn’t have come down here. You’re not going to send us home, are you?”
“Send you home without riding the Adventure Machine?” Terry clicked his tongue. “Not a chance. You’ve done nothing wrong. Have you taken the opportunity to look at One?”
“One what?” Devin asked, relieved to know he wasn’t in trouble.
Terry stooped over the keyboard and typed a few commands into the computer. “There are six pods in all, and we label the creatures by their numbers. We’re not too creative when we come up with names. That’s the first pod, and that’s One.”
“We already met him,” Trevor said, and he pounded a fist against the side of the machine. Instead of a resonating sound one might hear from a hollowed-out enclosure, the metallic pod produced a dull, heavy din. For the slightest of moments, the glass screen flickered, and the creature behind it looked almost pixelated.
“Careful, son,” Terry said. “That’s a fifteen-million-dollar piece of equipment you’re pounding on, and the technology is entirely new. If you damage something, we wouldn’t be able to find replacement parts for quite some time.”
“Oh, sorry.” Trevor gently patted the spot he’d struck, as if trying to soothe its wound.
“It’s all part of the ride,” Terry said. “When the Adventure Machine officially opens to the public, participants will be introduced to their adventure here first, in what we call the Habitat Room. Doug wants this to be one of the most intense moments of their whole adventure. Seeing the creatures and communicating with them in this setting will allow for a completely unique experience when they interact with them on the ride.”
Devin felt the weight of his phone in his pocket and knew that he should’ve been filming this interaction with Terry and the creature. If his dad discovered he had missed out on some one-of-a-kind footage, he would flip. They could have uploaded the video as an exclusive, first-time look at the monsters of the Adventure Machine on their channel.
“It’s late, boys. I think it’s time you head back to your rooms,” Terry said. “I would keep what you’ve seen here a secret until after you finish your adventure tomorrow. You two are lucky. The pods aren’t planned to be part of your initial tour. The Habitat Room won’t be live for a few more weeks. If the others discovered that you stole a free tour, they might see it as you receiving preferential treatment.”
“I can keep a secret,” Trevor said, glancing over at Devin.
“I doubt they’ll care,” Devin said. “Seeing that monster made me a little nervous, and I know it would’ve freaked the both of them out.”
“A little nervous?” Trevor waggled his eyebrows. He stole another peek into the glass and then back at Terry. “Is One supposed to be looking at me like he wants to rip my face off?”
Terry shrugged. “He’s programmed to create his own opinions about the participants, but I won’t go into that anymore tonight. You two better get back before your parents discover you’re missing,” he said. “Get plenty of rest. Tomorrow the real fun begins.”
WHEN THE DOOR to the office burst open, Harold yelped and fell out of his chair. Cold coffee splattered across the linoleum from his overturned mug, and a wastebasket crammed with tubes of blueprints and other assorted papers toppled and scattered.
Both of the Castleton brothers stood in the doorway to Harold’s office. Not just Terry, but also Doug Castleton, the owner of CastleCorp!
“As I’m sure you’re aware by now, a couple of the ride participants have made an unscheduled visit to the laboratory,” Terry Castleton said coolly.
“Ye…ah, about that. I, uh, wasn’t sure what I should do. I suppose I could’ve alerted security, but it was so unexpected.” Harold reached over sideways and attempted to herd an array of pens and used plastic straws back into their holder on his desk. As if the pencils were the main eyesore in the room. Had a tornado suddenly formed and torn through the office, there would’ve been no difference. His eyes darted to the various piles of garbage sprouting up like gopher mounds.
“Harold, this is my brother, Doug,” Terry said, gesturing with his palm. “I don’t believe you two have met.”
“Not officially.” Doug clicked his tongue and winked. “I’m really only familiar with Harold’s work, but I do also sign his checks.”
“Can you show us what we’ve learned from this encounter?” Terry asked.
Plopping down in his chair, Harold scooted up to his desk. “You usually don’t see a connection like this.” He paused to catch his breath as he felt a hand
press firmly on his shoulder, and glanced up to see the brothers hovering over his workstation. “Again, this is just, I mean, it’s too soon to come to any firm conclusions, but—”
“Pull up the data, Harold,” Terry instructed.
Harold’s fingers clumsily navigated his keyboard, entering a series of commands, which produced a chart of numbers on the screen. Terry leaned closer, reading the data. Doug didn’t appear to be as interested in the raw statistics as his older brother, but from what Harold knew of him, and that was based purely on Doug’s YouTube channel, numbers and data weren’t really his thing. Doug liked to jump out of airplanes without a parachute. No manner of statistics could ever convince Harold to pull off such a harebrained stunt.
Terry straightened and slid his glasses off his ears. “Fascinating. And all the children did was look through the screen.”
“That’s all it takes,” Harold said. “The creatures have ocular reception.”
“So you knew this would happen?” Terry asked, pointing to the screen.
Harold shook his head vehemently, but that morphed into a half nod. “It was only just earlier this morning that I completed the final programming.” Not to mention the fact that Harold had made several rapid changes to the program right after he realized the two boys were about to sneak into the lab. But he wasn’t about to reveal those changes to the Castletons. Harold wasn’t that stupid.
Terry stared at Harold for several uncomfortable seconds. Finally, his gaze softened, and a smile cracked the stonelike surface of his expression.
“Brilliant, Harold. Absolutely brilliant!” he said. “That was a risky move, allowing the boys to enter the laboratory, one that could’ve jeopardized our entire launch. But I suppose risks are necessary for greatness to be achieved.”
Doug cleared his throat, and Harold yelped for the second time that evening. He had completely forgotten that the other Castleton brother was even in the room.
“For the benefit of someone who has no idea what you’re talking about, could you please explain what’s going on?” Doug asked, then added, “In words I can understand.”
Harold scratched the side of his head. He honestly had no clue what words Doug would be able to understand. Everything about the project used a vocabulary spoken only by geniuses, which the younger Castleton most certainly was not.
Terry gave Harold a solid pat on his shoulder. “The project is a success.”
“Come on, Terry,” Doug said, clear annoyance in his tone. “I may not be tech-savvy like you two, but I do pay the bills. And I don’t think I need to remind you how much is riding on tomorrow’s launch.”
Terry chuckled. “And here I thought I was always the serious one. Relax, Doug. What else is there to know?”
“We’re not jeopardizing these kids, right?” Doug pressed. “We’re going to have four preteens strapped in to a ride that’s never been tested before. Not to mention their guardians will be on-site watching the whole event transpire. I don’t want to think about the legal ramifications if something goes wrong.”
“I’m assuming you had legal clear you of any liability in the contract,” Terry said.
“Of course.” Doug winked at Harold. “It’s buried so deep in the fine print you’d need a microscope to find it.”
Harold grinned and pressed his fist against his mouth to stifle a belch.
“All joking aside, I just need to know that we’re not putting our participants in any real danger,” Doug said.
Terry returned his glasses to his inside suit coat pocket. “Well, that depends.”
“Depends on what?” Doug asked.
“That depends on what you consider real danger to be.”
NIKA HAD ALMOST finished her breakfast when Trevor finally stumbled into the food court the next morning. She, along with the other kids and their guardians, sat at several circular tables grouped together near the center of the spacious room.
“Finally decided to join us, did you?” Nika asked Trevor as he pulled one of the chairs away from the table and sat down with an exhausted plop. “You’re lucky we didn’t leave without you.” She polished off the last ounce of her orange juice.
“Yeah, it’s about time,” Ms. Isaacs said. “I tried dragging you out of bed over an hour ago. What’s the deal, bucko?” She attacked an out-of-place shock of hair on the back of Trevor’s head with her hand.
Trevor swatted her hand away. “What do I do to get breakfast?” He looked over at the restaurants, all of which were closed.
“The breakfast is catered, but you serve yourself.” Cameron pointed across the floor to where two banquet tables held a variety of steaming chafing dishes. “They have French toast. I love French toast,” Cameron said. “It’s so good!”
“Do you eat it with a straw?” Trevor asked.
Nika giggled as she noticed Cameron’s plate and his single slice of French toast doused with easily half a bottle of maple syrup. It looked more like a prehistoric insect buried in amber.
Cameron opened his mouth to respond, but Trevor was already weaving between chairs and tables on his way to the far side of the food court.
“Were you not able to sleep last night?” Nika asked when Trevor returned, balancing his toast on top of a mountain of eggs, sausage, and bacon.
“I was just up late thinking about stuff,” Trevor said, dashing salt and pepper haphazardly over his plate.
“Me too,” Cameron said. “The whole concept of this ride concerns me.”
Cameron’s mom cleared her throat. “Which reminds me, we’re going to need some strong cleaner and some more towels after you wrote all over the walls.”
“Well, I ran out of window.” Cameron scooped up a glob of syrup-soaked French toast and crammed it in his mouth.
Devin scrunched his nose. “What does that even mean?”
“It means I had to do some calculations in order to soothe my mind,” Cameron said. “I get that way whenever something deeply troubles me, or when I forget my pills. Once, on a family campout in Yellowstone, my pills fell into a lake.” He twirled his fork. “I then ended up creating a new form of mosquito repellant using deer droppings, kerosene, and mustard.”
“And we found him the next morning at another campsite three miles away, wearing only his underwear and covered from head to toe in yellow paste,” Ms. Kiffing finished, wearing an unreadable expression. Nika couldn’t tell if she was proud or exhausted.
“Yes, but I didn’t have a single mosquito bite.” Cameron raised his index finger to deliver his point.
“Oh boy,” Devin muttered. “Something tells me we’re going to love having you with us on the ride.”
Cameron beamed at Devin. “Are you all just as worried as I am that this ride will break down?”
“Break down?” Trevor said through a mouthful of eggs. “Why would it do that?”
“This is going to be the first official launch in the Globe,” Cameron said. “It’s such an enormous entity—the Globe, that is. Plenty of places to be stuck for long periods of time.”
Nika wiped her chin with her napkin. Cameron seemed like an odd boy. Did all Americans like to dwell on such dismal topics? She didn’t want to think about what terrible things could happen on the Adventure Machine. She just wanted an adventure. A real one, with risks and intrigue. And to experience it without having her grandfather towering over her shoulder and shielding her from danger. “I think we’re going to have a wonderful time,” she said.
“You speak excellent English,” Cameron’s mom said, nibbling on a piece of toast. “Did you come to the States to study?”
Nika could sense color forming in her cheeks. “My grandfather had me tutored at home.”
“Well, your accent is almost flawless,” Ms. Kiffing said. “Would have never guessed you to be from a foreign country.”
“Must have cost a pretty penny to pay for that sort of tutoring, eh? Am I right?” Devin’s dad asked, winking at Mr. Pushkin.
The older gentleman stared
back with an unfriendly gaze and poured cream into his coffee.
“Why didn’t you go to regular school?” Devin asked.
“It’s just safer for me to be taught at home,” Nika said, but then wished she hadn’t. She looked down and stared at the table, feeling Devin’s and Cameron’s gazes take on suspicious gleams.
“Why is it safer?” Trevor asked. “Is the place where you live in Russia dangerous?”
“Perhaps it would be better if we not talk about my granddaughter anymore,” Mr. Pushkin said. He took a sip of his coffee and then pushed the cup away.
“Agreed,” Cameron said. “I’d rather discuss the dangers of riding the Adventure Machine. I wonder what sort of contingency plans they have in place in case of emergencies?”
“Why do you want to discuss that?” Nika asked.
“I have to think through every possible scenario. It’s how I work.” Cameron tugged on his collar, and Nika thought the small boy looked just about ready to start undressing.
Cameron’s mom slid a small white pill across the table and tapped Cameron’s juice with her finger. “My son’s truly brilliant, but without his pills, he’s hard to swallow. Oh my”—she pressed her hand against her chest and snorted—“that was by no means an intentional pun.”
“Mom, please,” Cameron hissed.
“If you’re so worried about it, why did you even enter the contest?” Devin asked.
Cameron twirled his spoon through the pool of syrup remaining on his plate until it began to froth. “Why do you ask? Is it because I’m younger and smaller than you? Or because of my inexperience on roller coasters?”
“Well, have you ever ridden one before?” Devin asked.
“Literally? No. But in a figurative sense, aren’t we all riding this roller coaster called life?” Cameron said with a smile.
Nika laughed. Someone as fragile as Cameron had no business hopping aboard a ride that guaranteed terrifying thrills. Literally or figuratively. But she respected his choice because she felt as though she shared the same path.
Cameron sighed. “I’m here for the science. I find it intriguing how CastleCorp has accomplished creating a ride that will simulate all the things they showcased in their video.”
The World's Greatest Adventure Machine Page 5
