Amanda Lester and the Orange Crystal Crisis

by Paula Berinstein

  Just as the situation in the vicinity of the dining room looked like it was stabilizing, Amanda received another text. It was Amphora telling her that Thrillkill had broken his leg in the last aftershock. Amphora! How was she doing? Amanda texted her back and asked, fortunately to be told that everyone on the third floor of the dorm was fine. She brought Amphora up to date on her own news, purposely neglecting to mention the new cook. There would be time for that later. The next thing she knew was that a rumor had started flying around the school that Thrillkill was dead. However, his appearance on crutches a bit later quickly scotched that one. It turned out that Professor Also had also been injured. Apparently she was completely black and blue and had taken refuge in the nurse’s office.

  Then Amanda heard a siren. Someone had been hurt, or worse! There was such an unreliable grapevine in place at this point that she thought it almost completely useless to ask if anyone knew what was going on, so she ran to the south entrance of the main building and looked out onto the driveway. There, in front of the school, two paramedics were loading Professor Kindseth into an ambulance! He looked unconscious. Professor Buck was standing nearby, supervising.

  This was terrible! Amanda was very attached to Professor Kindseth, who was just about the nicest adult on campus. Last term he’d admitted to her that he, too, had wanted to work in the film biz, but his interest lay in cinematography rather than writing and directing, which were Amanda’s specialties. Ever since then she’d felt a particular kinship with the little man. Simon would be crushed to hear about his injuries. He and Professor Kindseth had worked so hard to identify the sugar virus and had hit it off so well. Of course Simon wouldn’t show his feelings, but he’d be plenty upset.

  Amanda watched as the ambulance left with its precious passenger. She’d better check on Amphora—and Editta! How was she? Where was she?

  She ran down the cleaner but still messy hallway and tromped up the stairs to the third floor. There she found Amphora cowering under her bed, which was a neat trick considering how low the bed was. Fortunately, unlike in Nick’s room, there was a minimum of dust underneath, although since the quake, there was plenty everywhere else. Amphora was alternately sneezing, crying, and chattering so hard she had practically bitten her tongue off.

  “Are you okay?” said Amanda, bending down to see meet her eyes. “Can you come out of there?”

  “N-o, and n-n-n-o,” said Amphora, peering out between her fingers.

  “It was a 5.5. The epicenter is in Aspatria.” It was hard to talk all hunched over like that. Her voice caught.

  “N-o w-w-onder! It was p-p-p-ractically u-u-underneath us.” Was that a sign of life? Even if all Amphora could express was panic, at least she was talking.

  “By the way, we’re all fine except that Thrillkill broke his leg and Professor Kindseth just left in an ambulance.”

  “Oh n-o! Is he d-ead?” Amphora chattered even harder. Amanda reached under the bed and took her hand, which was ice cold.

  “I don’t think so. I don’t really know anything. Where’s Editta? Is she okay?”

  “I have n-n-n-no idea. Did you l-l-look in her ro-om?”

  It was a stupid question. If Amphora had spent the last however long under her bed, how would she know what was going on with Editta?

  “No,” said Amanda. “Hang on. I’ll take a peek.”

  She opened the door and surveyed the hall, which was so dusty that just looking at it made her want to sneeze. The way was clear, though, so she walked carefully down to Editta’s room and knocked. Nothing.

  “Editta,” she called. “Are you in there?”

  Silence.

  “Editta?”

  “What do you want?” Aha. She was in there, although extremely muffled.

  “Are you okay? The earthquake was 5.5.” She thought her friend might respond better if she mentioned numbers.

  “Go away.”

  “I will if you answer my question.” It would be delicate trying to deal with her. Amanda decided to act as non-threatening as possible. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” Her voice was weak.

  “Can I come in and see?” What if she’d been hit in the head or something?

  “Mm.”

  Amanda took that as a yes. She pushed the door open and peeked inside. Editta was lying on her bed, stomach down, with her hands over the back of her head, as if trying to protect herself. She had it half right. She would have been safer underneath.

  “Can you turn over?”

  Editta made no move to do so, so Amanda came close and looked at the bit of her face that was showing. She looked uninjured, but who could tell?

  “Are you hurt?”

  “No.”

  “Good. Do you want to talk about the quake? I have information.”

  “No.”

  “Do you want to talk about anything?” Maybe considering the situation she’d open up about whatever it was that had been bothering her.

  “No.”

  “Do you want something to drink?”

  “No.”

  Amanda thought it best not to push, so she simply said, “Okay. Text if you need me,” and left. What was going on? First the teachers, then Ivy, and now Editta. Could whatever was bothering them be the same thing? If so, what was it? She’d better find the missing item, and fast.

  Upon returning to her room, where Amphora was making tentative progress toward emerging from her sanctuary, Amanda received a call. It was her mother wanting to find out how she was. Apparently she and Herb had felt the quake too, but much less strongly. After all, London was more than 300 miles from the epicenter.

  “Do you want to come home?” said Lila. “I can make you some chicken soup.”

  “I’m fine, Mom. We’re all fine. No one needs chicken soup.”

  “It’s too dangerous. I’m going to come get you.”

  This was just about the worst idea Amanda could think of and she wasn’t about to let it happen.

  “Mom, please don’t. The teachers are looking after us just fine.” This was a bit of a stretch, but how would her mother know that? “The cracks are hairline,” which was true, “and I’m pretty sure the structures are sound. They’ve called the engineers. Really. You don’t need to worry. We’re on basalt here anyway.”

  As if. Basalt was one of the safest foundations possible, but she had no idea if that was really the case. She hoped her mother wouldn’t look up the geology of Windermere.

  “Your father isn’t feeling too well,” said Lila. “Why don’t you send him an email? It might cheer him up.”

  “Sure. I’ll do that right now. What’s wrong with him?”

  “Same old same old. He’s listless. He’ll snap out of it, though. I’ve bought him some videos on PTSD. They give you exercises to do every day. He’ll be fine in no time.”

  Amanda doubted that some video could fix what was ailing her father but she had no intention of saying so. That would just lead to a lot of I-know-what’s-best-don’t-you-question-me stuff, which she really didn’t need, so she mumbled assent and got off the phone as gracefully as she could.

  She was dying to say something to Amphora about the cutie pie in the kitchen, but she figured now wasn’t the time, so she turned to go back down to the dining room to check on her friends. However, before she could get through the door she got another text from Thrillkill telling everyone to stay in their rooms until further notice. Coincidentally, Ivy and Nigel appeared at just about that time, Ivy having decided that Simon was very sweet to offer to help but she’d prefer to keep Nigel at her side.

  Thrillkill’s dictum did not sit well. Amanda and Ivy were way too headstrong to allow themselves to be confined. They were willing to clean up the room a bit, but once the place was usable they agreed that they would go out and nose around. At this point Amphora was texting madly with her parents and seemed not to see or hear anything Amanda and Ivy were doing. Ivy pointed at her and then vaguely toward the kitchen, and Amanda took h
er hand and made a yes sign in her palm. They were wise to Amphora’s tricks now, and though neither of them was particularly nosy, they were curious about her little crush.

  Amanda, Ivy, and Nigel sneaked down the stairs, although they didn’t have to be quite so careful because everyone was preoccupied. When they reached the bottom they noticed several teachers looking around and making notes. Then they heard something disturbing. Professor Snaffle and Professor McTavish were saying that they hadn’t seen Professor Redleaf anywhere. She wasn’t in her office or her classroom and no one could find her. All the other teachers were accounted for, so this development was particularly worrisome.

  Suddenly both Amanda’s and Ivy’s phones buzzed. What now? Amanda was getting phone shy. Every time a text or a call came through it was something she didn’t want to hear. But nothing she had received so far was as bad as this news. Simon was texting them to tell them that Professor Stegelmeyer had found Professor Redleaf under a bookcase and she was dead!

  10

  Mushy Letters and Candy Stashes

  Upon hearing the terrible news about Professor Redleaf, Amanda’s first thought was that this was another trick meant to test their powers of observation, but after texting back and forth with Simon, she became convinced that the cyberforensics teacher—Holmes’s friend—had really been killed.

  She was so upset she couldn’t think. Ivy burst into tears and clutched Amanda and Nigel at the same time. Nigel was still pretty shook up and seemed to bask in the attention. Simon, however, was texting all sorts of questions, which were hard to ignore. Did the accident have anything to do with the gremlins’ placement of the bookcase, and if so, what would happen to them? Was this really a murder meant to look like an accident? What would happen to Professor Redleaf’s course? Would Amanda and Holmes still make the film? Amanda was so overloaded and freaked out that she could barely read the texts, let alone consider their implications.

  She wondered if there was any way to get news about Professor Kindseth. Surely he was still alive, although how could she be sure? Why wasn’t Thrillkill letting them know about his condition? Would they have to evacuate the school? And what would happen on Monday, when classes were supposed to resume?

  Professor Redleaf’s death hit the students hard. No one but Holmes had really known her, but they still took her loss personally. Bonds at Legatum went deep. There was a fierce us vs. them mentality at the school, and Professor Okimma Redleaf had definitely been one of “us.”

  The next day, Sunday, everyone was dragging around. They’d all been up late because of the earthquake, and the aftershocks during the night hadn’t helped them get any rest. Around ten in the morning, Amanda received a text from Thrillkill asking her to come see him. When she arrived, he told her that she and Holmes would have to postpone their film because Holmes was needed elsewhere. He was going to take over Professor Redleaf’s class.

  Despite the fact that she hadn’t wanted to make the film in the first place, this news infuriated her. Who was Holmes to be teaching the class? He was twelve, for Pete’s sake. Actually, he might have been thirteen—she didn’t know—but in either case, cyberforensics? How could he possibly know enough to teach that? The inconvenient fact that Amanda herself was supposed to teach a class managed to escape her. Holmes was an arrogant twit. She was a qualified story expert who had something wonderful to share.

  It didn’t hit her until about an hour later that this meant her course was back on. Thrillkill hadn’t said so, but that was the logical conclusion. When she realized she would be able to teach her storytelling class after all, she pumped the air and ran to tell Ivy the news. Now both girls were lined up to teach. Forgetting the earthquake, the two of them pulsed with energy and started jabbering about tricks for keeping the students on the edges of their seats. Ivy was going to regale them with the story of how she had helped Amanda foil that security keypad by listening to the sounds the keys made, and Amanda was planning to compare and contrast the various villains in the Harry Potter stories to shed light on criminal personalities. This led to their comparing David Wiffle with Draco Malfoy and the discovery of many similarities until Ivy pointed out that David was supposed to be a good guy and Amanda said yes, what had they been thinking.

  The rest of the day unfolded in fits and starts while the kids alternately cowered, grieved, and played bumper brooms. Amanda and her group used their listening devices but didn’t hear anything helpful. Everyone was preoccupied with the quake, Professor Redleaf, and Professor Kindseth, who had been declared to be in critical condition at the local hospital. Quite a few of the kids wanted to visit him but were told they couldn’t do so while he was in intensive care.

  On Monday classes were cancelled as building inspectors crawled all over the school. All day Legatum was on high alert as the engineers found this problem and that problem and debated whether they would be able to contain them. Their presence caused the kids to worry even more about what might happen if the school were declared uninhabitable. Where would they go? What would they do? Would there even be a school? What did all this mean for the missing object, whatever it was? Maybe it been unearthed in the quake—or buried deeper.

  In the end, however, although the damage was extensive, the inspectors miraculously didn’t find anything serious enough to close down the school—other than the chapel. Ugly, creepy, and in need of repair, yes. Some things definitely were that. Condemned, however, no. Despite the casualties, everyone declared themselves lucky. A 5.5 earthquake in a place without special provisions in its building codes could have been much more serious.

  Still and all, the gremlins’ work had now been called into question and the school had to consider earthquake safety in placing items, whether at the gremlins’ direction or no. This restriction, of course, threw Alexei and Noel into a tizzy because where objects went was a critical part of design and now they would be limited to a canvas that was inherently out of balance. The two men were occupied from morning till midnight moving, cleaning, storing, and what have you, but that didn’t stop them grousing one minute and planning how they might adapt the next. Sometimes Amanda wondered how they could talk so much without becoming hoarse and finally wrote herself a reminder to research the topic.

  On Tuesday classes resumed—all except Textual Analysis, that is. With Professor Bill Pickle in jail for having assaulted a commercial rival a few months before, Headmaster Thrillkill had had to look for a replacement, but with all the confusion he hadn’t been able find anyone and had had to cancel the class until further notice. This omission, however, affected only the third-year and later students.

  Despite the kids’ having bumper-broomed pretty well, the school was still thick with dust and debris. Everyone was sneezing and coughing, even Nigel, and Ivy asked Simon if there might be something they could do to protect him. Simon considered acquiring a gas mask, but Ivy said no, Nigel would never wear it. That got Simon thinking about trying to design either a special surgical mask for dogs, or a massive air purifier, or both. In the end, he managed to make a mask out of a muzzle, which Nigel actually tolerated. That led him to think about trying to patent it, at which point he decided to consult Holmes, who himself held a patent—some method for finding smoking guns in digital data—and might be helpful. The device worked beautifully and Ivy was immensely grateful. Amanda, however, upon hearing about Holmes and his la-di-da intellectual property, became annoyed despite her love for Nigel, and barked at Simon when he tried to explain what he’d done.

  The new doctor—the one who replaced Mr. Tunnel, who’d turned out to work for the Moriartys—was a Chinese woman who was such a whirlwind of activity that Amanda thought she must have been a choreographer in a previous life. She hadn’t needed to consult her, but Amphora and Ivy had—both had bad coughs—and they’d been highly impressed with her medical skills and bedside manner. However, one thing about the doctor, Mrs. Wing, did annoy her, or rather something that happened involving the doctor rather than Amanda personally. Wh
en passing by the school’s hospital, she heard the doctor conversing in Chinese with Holmes, which she found so annoying she wanted to punch his lights out. (Not the doctor’s, of course. Chinese was her native language.) There he was showing off again. How could so many of her contemporaries actually like the guy, especially Simon, who thought he was the bee’s knees?

  However, some positive developments soon became apparent. The main one was that a number of hidden compartments, cupboards, niches, and even tunnels that had previously been cleverly hidden were now exposed. As a result there was much more to explore than before, and Amanda and her friends felt optimistic about their chances of finding the missing item. Unfortunately, noxious substances had also been liberated, including various spores, weird types of soil and dust, odd species of mold, and long-buried pollen. In fact, the air was so polluted that it was a wonder the engineers had declared the school safe to inhabit. Fortunately, ordinary surgical masks helped protect sensitive noses, mouths, and respiratory systems in the humans. As far as animals were concerned, Simon consulted for Professor McTavish as well as Ivy, and managed to make a special cage filter for Angela, the talking parakeet. This caused him to run to Holmes about a possible second patent application, and he came back yakking his head off about how he was going to file it.

  After class Amanda, Simon, Ivy, Amphora, and Nigel spent several hours exploring. They were keen on looking in the basements, which were extensive, and since the earthquake, believed to be even more so. However, they thought it might be best to start at the top of the school and work down, just to be systematic, so up to the top floor they went.

  They decided to spread out. Amanda took the north end, Ivy and Amphora the south end, and Simon the middle. This was not exactly an equitable split but it was good enough to start with.

  They hadn’t searched long when Amphora called out, “You’ve got to see this.” Thinking she might have found the missing thingie, the rest of the team ran to her position, which happened to be deep inside a closet in a disused classroom. When they arrived, they found her standing in front of a tiny compartment that had been hidden behind some shelves containing Christmas decorations. Inside was a metal box, and inside the box was a pile of handwritten letters. Amphora had opened one of them and was reading it with tears in her eyes.