The Rocky Road to Revenge

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The Rocky Road to Revenge Page 6

by Franklin W. Dixon


  “Okay,” Terry said with a nod.

  “And it stands to reason,” Joe said, “that at least a small percentage of these planets, which revolve around suns similar to ours, could support life. And that means there must be thousands of planets with some kind of living organisms.”

  “I guess,” Terry said thoughtfully.

  Joe continued. “Then it stands to reason that at least a small percentage of those planets has intelligent life. Like us. In other words, the mathematical probability that intelligent life exists somewhere in the universe is overwhelming!”

  “Hmm, you’re convincing me,” Terry said. “What do you think, Frank?”

  Frank got into position for his throws. He had been listening to the conversation with interest. “A lot of scientists say the conditions on earth may be so unique that this is the only place in the universe where life has ever evolved.”

  “But you have to admit,” Joe told Frank, “that there could be life somewhere else in the universe?”

  “Yes,” Frank said, “there could be. But there’s still no real evidence of it.”

  Joe glanced up. By now the sky had turned a deep purple, and the stars were glimmering. “You know,” Joe said, “Frank and I investigate mysteries all the time. But this is really the greatest mystery of all.”

  “It’s also a mystery why I’m not winning this game,” Frank remarked. “We’re tied.”

  Frank eventually won the game but only by a narrow margin. Then Frank, Joe, Terry, and Stella went to Terry’s room on the second floor of the HQ. They settled in to watch a video Frank had rented in town.

  It was a science-fiction movie called Man from Another Planet. In the opening scenes, as eerie music played, an alien spacecraft crashed on earth. Only one of the alien crew members survived. “Good pick,” Joe said, engrossed by the video.

  After a while Stella fell asleep on the bed. “I guess she’s seen this one before,” Joe joked.

  “Or else she finds it silly,” Frank said. “If that’s the case, I can’t say I disagree.”

  “Personally,” Terry said, “this movie is giving me the creeps.”

  Suddenly Stella lifted her head.

  “She knows we were talking about her,” Frank said, patting the dog’s back.

  Stella jumped off the bed and went to the open window. She placed her paws on the sill and looked outside. She began barking.

  Terry rushed to the window. “Maybe she’s picked up Mr. Robinson’s scent. I think that’s the kind of bark she makes when she senses he’s around. I don’t see anything out there, though.”

  Frank looked out the window. He saw nothing outside but darkness and the empty volleyball court. “There’s nothing out there that we can see, anyway,” he said, “but something has Stella’s attention.”

  “Look!” Joe exclaimed.

  Frank turned. The television screen was now buzzing with static. Then a lamp in the room flickered, and the lights went out.

  “What in the world is happening?” Terry asked.

  Startled voices were heard coming from other rooms. From what they were saying, Frank could tell the electricity had gone out in other rooms, too. Stella continued to bark.

  “Shh,” Terry said, stroking Stella. “It’s all right, sweetie. It’s all right.”

  Joe had a strange look on his face.

  “What is it?” Frank asked his brother.

  Joe spoke softly. “According to the pamphlet Sykes gave me, aliens often cause electrical interference when they appear. I’m not saying that’s what this is, okay? But that’s what it might be!”

  9 Take Me with You

  * * *

  “We have to check this out,” Terry said. She darted from the room, followed by Joe and Stella.

  Frank stayed behind, his thoughts turned to Alastair Sykes. If Sykes had kidnapped Robinson to make it look like an alien abduction, maybe he had just tampered with the electricity to heighten the impression that aliens were nearby.

  Frank ran down to the lobby and discovered that the lights were still working there. He went to the check-in desk. He found Sykes’s number in a phone book and called the number. After two rings, Sykes answered.

  “Uh, hi, Mr. Sykes,” Frank spoke into the phone. “This is Frank Hardy. My brother and I came by your place earlier today.”

  “Yes, I remember,” Sykes said.

  If Sykes was at home, Frank realized, he couldn’t have tampered with the electricity. Still, Sykes could have hired someone to do it for him.

  Frank decided to feel the man out. “All of a sudden,” Frank told Sykes, “some of the electricity at the place where I’m staying is going hay wire.”

  “Really,” Sykes said with great interest. “Supposedly that’s a common occurrence when Visitors are in the vicinity. Many abductees claim that right before they get abducted their lights flicker or their ear engines temporarily die. Some experts speculate that the aliens radiate an electromagnetic field that interferes with the power sources. I should come investigate. Where are you?”

  “I’m at the Silver Crest resort,” Frank said.

  “Wait . . . where?” Sykes said. “I thought I just saw . . .”

  Sykes sounded distracted now, as if he had seen something unusual.

  “Mr. Sykes, are you there?” Frank said.

  “Yes, I’m—I’m here,” Sykes said, his voice trembling with alarm. “Uh, Frank, I have to go.”

  “Are you all right?” Frank asked.

  “I think so,” Sykes said, “but . . . I really . . . have to go. Good-bye.”

  Frank heard a click at the other end of the line. He redialed the phone number, but after a few rings an answering machine picked up. “You have reached Alastair—”

  Frank hung up the phone. Several people had now come downstairs, puzzled by the power outage on the second floor. Frank ran outside and found Terry, Joe, Stella, and Chris, whom Terry introduced as the resort’s handyman, in a storage shed that adjoined the HQ. As Terry held a flashlight, Chris studied an electrical feed box.

  “What happened?” Frank asked.

  “Loose cable,” Chris replied as he studied the wires.

  “How could that have happened?” Frank said.

  “It could have just happened on its own,” Chris said, working with a screwdriver. “Or someone could have fiddled with it. But I don’t see why.”

  “Gould a strong electromagnetic field have disturbed the cable?” Joe asked.

  “Well, I suppose so,” Chris said.

  “Joe,” Frank said urgently, “do you still have the keys to the Jeep?”

  Joe looked confused. “Sure. Why?”

  Frank took Joe’s arm. “We need to take a drive to Sykes’s house. Come on.”

  As Frank and Joe headed for the Jeep, Frank reported his conversation with Sykes. “I’ll drive,” Frank said as he hopped into the driver’s seat.

  Frank maneuvered the Jeep around the curving roads to Sykes’s house in just under fifteen minutes. A few lights were on in the house, but there was no answer when Joe buzzed the intercom box.

  “Sykes needs our help,” Frank said. “This calls for drastic measures.” He pulled a metal device from his pocket and set to work picking the lock. After a few minutes he had managed to release the lock. But as soon as he opened the door, an alarm sent out a high-pitched sound.

  Frank yelled over the noise. “Look for Sykes while I disconnect this alarm!”

  Joe headed down the hallway and stepped through the door that led to the laboratory. The lights and computers were on, and the room was filled with the same static Joe had heard that morning. But there was no sign of Sykes.

  The alarm stopped, and Frank entered the lab.

  “He’s not here,” Joe said, “but look at what I found.” He pointed to an open window.

  “Strange,” Frank said. “He has an elaborate security system because he’s nervous about his stuff getting stolen. Yet he leaves a window wide open. It doesn’t make sense.”
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  “Unless somebody forced him to leave or he was all excited and left in a hurry,” Joe said.

  Frank rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “He definitely was scared or excited when I last heard him.”

  Joe moved to one of the computers. Pictures were scrolling horizontally across the screen. They resembled the simple drawings of a child. Beneath the pictures, mathematical equations scrolled by. Beneath those were words.

  “What do you think all this means?” Joe asked.

  Frank examined the computer screen. “I think it’s the language he was telling us about. The one he uses to communicate, or try to communicate, with ETs. It looks like the language is a combination of images, equations, and words.”

  Joe studied the screen more closely. The pictures showed a man being greeted by aliens resembling the one in Sykes’s living room. As the pictures scrolled by, the man followed the aliens onto a strange vehicle.

  Joe looked at the words scrolling by. They read, “Have no alliance with any government but am a seeker of the truth. Please, take me with you. Take me with you. Take me with you.”

  Joe’s blue eyes flickered with excitement. “Sykes told us he sends out the signals when he suspects aliens might be listening. Maybe he had reason to believe they were nearby and so he sent this message. Then maybe they understood his message and took him with them. Just the way he wanted!”

  “Get a grip, Joe,” Frank said, his eyes on the screen.

  “I know, I know,” Joe said. “We’ve found several people with a motive to get rid of Clay Robinson, and, who knows, there may be people with a motive to get rid of Sykes, too. But what are the odds the same party would be after both men? You couldn’t find two people with less in common than Sykes and Robinson.”

  “So we should just assume they were both abducted by aliens?” Frank asked.” That makes a lot of sense.”

  Joe paced the room, thinking. “What happens when aliens abduct someone? I mean, would they leave any signs behind or anything? The tapes!”

  Joe walked to the cassettes on the shelf, the ones containing abductee accounts.

  “Come on,” Frank exclaimed, “we don’t have time to listen to a bunch of crazies right now!”

  Joe pulled out a tape. “Let’s just listen to one. We might learn something that will help us figure out what’s going on—and where Sykes is.”

  Frank grabbed the cassette from Joe and inserted it into the tape player in the cabinet beside the bookshelf. He pressed the play button, and the deep tones of a man’s voice filled the room.

  “This is Dr. Simon Parker,” the voice said, “and this is my fourth session with Emma Fried-land. Emma, are you ready to go under hypnosis?”

  “Yes, I am, Doctor,” a female voice responded.

  Impatiently Frank pressed the fast forward button on the tape player. Then he started the tape again. The doctor’s voice returned. “You drove for several miles. And then what happened?”

  “I’m still on the same road,” the female patient replied. “It’s completely dark except for my car’s headlights. Suddenly I hear my engine sputtering, and then it just dies. Then I see a big blue light appear through the trees. Then, uh 1 then I get real drowsy. I’m conking out. Just like the car. Everything gets blurry, and then it goes dark.”

  “What is your next memory?” the doctor asked.

  “I . . . I don’t know,” the patient replied.

  “Yes, you do,” the doctor said.

  There was a long pause. Joe felt goose bumps forming on his arm. He saw Frank staring at the tape player.

  “I’m, uh . . . lying down,” the patient said. “Yes, I’m lying down on a cold metal table. And I’m in a big room, but it’s not like any room I’ve ever seen. It looks like everything is made of crystal or ice. I want to get up and look around, but for some reason I can’t move. I’m awake but it’s as though I’m paralyzed or . . . oh, no!”

  “What’s happening?” the doctor asked gently.

  “Some kind of creature is standing over me, watching me,” the patient said with a trembling voice. “It’s gray with very smooth skin and . . . it’s got a big head, shaped like a pear or an onion . . . and it has big shiny black eyes. The eyes don’t blink. They just stare down at me as if they’re seeing through me, and I feel like . . . I don’t like this.”

  “Nothing can harm you now,” the doctor said.

  “I feel like those eyes are going right through me,” the patient said, sounding upset. “They’re diving into my mind, reading my thoughts and—no! It’s too much! Please! Please make them go away!” She was now screaming.

  “It’s all right, Emma,” the doctor said. “You can stop now. Understand? The session is over!”

  Frank pressed a button to stop the tape. “Unless she’s the best actress in the world,” Joe whispered, “that woman wasn’t faking that story.”

  “Maybe not,” Frank said calmly. “But sometimes people recount events under hypnosis they believe to be true, even though the events may not have taken place.”

  “Well, maybe, but maybe it is true,” Joe said.

  Then Joe spun around. He felt as if his blood were freezing in his veins. He saw a bright red light spinning outside the window. Could it be some kind of extraterrestrial vehicle? Were the aliens coming for him and Frank? The same aliens who had abducted Robinson and Sykes?

  Now even Frank appeared to be concerned as he, too, stared out the window. “What . . . what is this?” he said.

  Joe took a troubled breath. “I’m almost afraid to find out!”

  10 The Drifter

  * * *

  Shaken, Joe turned away from the window. His eyes fell on the computer screen and again read the words scrolling by: “Take me with you. Take me with you. Take me with you.”

  An amplified voice spoke from outside. “I want you to come out of there at once!”

  The voice sounded familiar. Joe turned back to the window. He realized it was not an alien spaceship. A closer look showed that the red light was rotating on the top of a police car.

  Frank leaned out the window. Sergeant Bunt was standing by the car, holding a radio mike in one hand and a pistol in the other.

  “It’s us,” Frank called to Bunt. “Frank and Joe Hardy. We met you last night.”

  “What are you boys doing here?” Bunt called.

  Frank climbed out the window, and Joe followed. The Hardys quickly told Bunt about the electrical problems at Silver Crest and Frank’s interrupted phone conversation with Alastair Sykes. Bunt listened intently.

  “When you set off that alarm,” Bunt said when Frank and Joe had finished, “it sent a signal to a security company. They called me, and I drove right over. I was out near Parnassa, so it took me a while.”

  Good thing we weren’t burglars, Joe thought. We could have stolen the entire contents of the house by now.

  “Do you have any idea what could have happened to Mr. Sykes?” Frank asked. “Or do you have any new leads on Mr. Robinson’s disappearance?”

  Sergeant Bunt screwed up his face. “I tell you fellas, this whole thing has got us stumped. I’m not what you’d call the gullible type, but I’m starting to think that that orange thing really was some sort of alien ship. And that the aliens who came in it are the ones responsible for these two missing men. It’s crazy, I know, but nothing else seems to make any sense.”

  “Okay, what’s our next move?” Joe asked Bunt.

  “Well, I’ll secure the premises,” Bunt said. “Then I’ll wake up Sergeant McCown, and we’ll drive around to see what we can find. I suggest you boys get inside somewhere and lock the door.”

  Frank and Joe had no intention of following Bunt’s advice, but they were not sure what they should do instead. They climbed into the Jeep and headed back to Silver Crest. As Frank drove, Joe saw someone wandering through a field. It was the young drifter with shaggy blond hair whom the Hardys had seen the previous night. He was wearing the blue-tinted sunglasses.

  “It’s t
hat guy again,” Joe said. “It’s kind of funny we saw him right around the location of Robinson’s abduction and now we’re seeing him around here. Let’s have a chat with him.”

  Frank pulled the Jeep to the side of the road, and the two brothers climbed out. The young man approached, looking at the Hardys through his sunglasses. He nodded his head and said, “Hey, dudes.”

  “Hey, there,” Frank said. “I guess you’re just out for another late-night stroll.”

  “Sure am,” the man said. “Are you going to ask if I saw anything strange again?”

  “Well, did you?” Joe asked.

  “Nope,” the drifter said.

  “Do you live around here?” Frank asked.

  “No, I just wandered into these parts a few days ago,” the man said. “It’s nice. I think I might hang around till winter. See how the skiing is.”

  “Where are you staying?” Frank asked.

  “I’ve got some friends in the area,” the man answered. “They live about a half mile down the road from here.”

  Frank saw his own reflection in the mirrored blue lenses of the sunglasses. He looked the young man over carefully, trying to determine if it might be someone in disguise. Finally he came to the conclusion that the man was what he said he was.

  “Okay,” Frank told the man. “Thanks a lot.”

  The drifter gave a wave, and the Hardys walked away. “I wanted to ask why he wears those sunglasses at night,” Joe whispered to Frank, “but I figured I’d better not, in case he has some kind of eye problem.”

  “I was wondering about those glasses myself,” Frank said. “But I think they’re just part of his cool image. I think he was telling us the truth. We could probably suspect him, but I think he’s just your run-of-the-mill ski bum out for a stroll.”

  “Maybe,” Joe said hesitantly, “unless . . .”

  “What?” Frank asked.

  The Hardys stopped beside the Jeep. By the luminous light of the moon, Joe watched the drifter wandering through the field. “Maybe he’s an alien disguised in human form,” Joe said. “Just like in the movie we saw. And maybe he’s managed to duplicate every human feature except for the eyes.”

 

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