The Double Helix (Book 3)

by Trudi Trueit

  “You did it,” corrected Cruz. He put up a palm, and she slapped it.

  “Cruz, do you have the second piece of the cipher?” repeated his mother. They knew she could not give him the third clue until she had confirmed that the second stone was genuine.

  Cruz’s hand automatically went to his neck. “I…I do, Mom, but I don’t have it here.”

  “What?” squealed Sailor. “What do you mean, you don’t have it here? Where is it?” When Cruz didn’t answer right away, she leaned in to glare at Emmett, who lifted a shoulder. “He wouldn’t tell me.”

  “I didn’t want to take it with me to the Halloween party,” explained Cruz. “And once I discovered that Nebula knew I wore it, I figured it wasn’t safe on the lanyard either. So I…I hid it. I…I didn’t tell you guys. I figured you’d be in danger if you knew. And I didn’t bring it last night because you rushed up here so fast…”

  “Okay, okay.” Sailor waved. “Go get it now.”

  “It’s…uh…not that easy.”

  “We should probably wait anyway,” said Emmett, reaching for his tablet. “Everyone’s going to be up soon. I bet Chef Kristos and the breakfast crew are already in the galley. For all we know, somebody could be headed up here right now to get fresh fruits and veggies for breakfast.”

  Cruz nodded. “Plus, Lani would kill me if we unlocked the next clue without her.”

  “I understand,” said his mother. “Initiating shutdown.”

  “NO!” shouted Cruz, Emmett, and Sailor at once.

  “Wait, Mom, wait! Do not shut down. Do not shut down.” Cruz hopped to his feet, holding his hands out toward her. “Emmett!” he called over his shoulder. “Can we be sure that if we close the journal, we’ll be able to open it again?”

  Emmett was madly typing on his tablet. “I’m syncing with the interface now. I’ll try to access the diagnostics to see exactly what the problem was and how it was repaired, so that if it happens again, we’ll know what to do. Also, I’m uploading a program I wrote that will allow backdoor access in case this happens again…Uh-huh…uh-huh…”

  “What is it?” pressed Sailor, scurrying to peer over his shoulder.

  “Hold on…Uh-huh…uh-huh…”

  “Emmett!” cried Cruz.

  “One second,” said Sailor. “He’s almost there.”

  “Uh-huh…Aha! According to the diagnostic, it was a damaged circuit in the origami robotic progression. See, it’s programmed not to begin the morphing process if it can’t finish it. Once a link in the chain was broken, the activator simply shut off. That’s why whatever we tried had no effect. There was nothing we could have done.”

  “Are we good?” asked Cruz.

  “Not yet…not yet…”

  “Emmett!”

  Finally, his roommate’s head came up. “Upload is complete.”

  “You can shut down,” Cruz instructed his mother. He lifted a hand to her fading image. “See you in a little while, Mom.”

  She smiled.

  Cruz’s breath caught. He had not expected that. It’s what was so strange about this whole experience. Cruz was used to holograms, holo-videos, and time capsules—devices that could capture a memory for you to relive as often as you wanted. But the journal was different. It held surprises. Cruz was never sure what his mother would say or do next. It was like…

  Life.

  Grabbing their pillows and water bottles, the trio hurried down to the explorers’ deck.

  “Let’s meet tonight at nine in our cabin,” Cruz whispered to Sailor as they dropped her off at her stateroom. “I’ll text Lani.” He knew this was one text she would not ignore.

  Cruz already had a plan to retrieve the cipher stones before classes began that morning. He’d shower, dress, eat breakfast, and arrive at Taryn’s cabin with a good half hour to spare before conservation class. He would offer to walk Hubbard, which his adviser would happily let him do because she would be dealing with at least one explorer who had lost something, broken something, needed something, or was sick with something. Cruz would take Hubbard to his personal meadow, swiftly retrieve the cipher from the pocket of the life vest, and return the Westie to his owner. It would be a snap!

  Except it wasn’t. A snap.

  When Cruz knocked on Taryn’s door, she didn’t answer. She was usually an early riser, and he hadn’t seen her at breakfast. She must already be walking Hubbard. Cruz trotted down to the end of the explorers’ passage and through the door to the aft sundeck. No Taryn. No Hubbard. He retraced his steps. Sometimes Taryn left her stateroom unlocked. Maybe this was one of those times. Maybe Hubbard was inside. Cruz put his hand on the doorknob. It would take him less than 30 seconds to slip in, get the stones, and slip out again. He slowly turned the knob…

  “She’s not there.”

  Cruz jumped.

  “Sorry,” said Bryndis, breathing hard. She was in shorts, a tee, and sneakers—had just come back from her jog, obviously. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “You didn’t,” he lied.

  “I knocked a few minutes ago during my cooldown. She’s probably at breakfast.”

  Cruz shook his head. “I just came from there.”

  “Is it important?” Bryndis tapped the spot on her collarbone where the explorers wore their comm pins to signal he could call Taryn.

  “Not a big deal,” said Cruz. “I’ll find her at lunch.”

  But at lunchtime, Taryn was a no-show in the dining room. She wasn’t in her cabin either. This time, Cruz was able to try the door uninterrupted. It was locked. After classes were over for the day, he stopped by Taryn’s cabin again. Still no answer. Cruz was beginning to worry. It wasn’t like Taryn to disappear like this.

  There was only one thing left to do. Standing in the middle of the explorers’ passage, he tapped his comm pin. “Cruz Coronado to Taryn Secliff.”

  A few seconds later: “Taryn here.”

  That was a relief!

  “I came by your cabin to…uh…” Cruz was so glad she was all right that his mind went blank. “…to play with Hubbard.”

  “He can’t play right now.”

  Her voice sounded strange. Chilly. Distant. Their explorer-sitter, as Dugan jokingly referred to her, was a no-nonsense person, but she was not unfriendly. And she was certainly never dismissive, not when it came to her explorers.

  “Taryn, is everything okay?” asked Cruz.

  “I’m sorry…it’s just…” She cleared her throat. “Do you have time to come up here?”

  He had 40 minutes before he was due in the library to meet the rest of his team to finish their looting assignment. “Yes. Where are you?”

  “Sick bay.”

  Sick bay? Something was wrong!

  Hubbard!

  “I’ll be right there.” His heart thumping against his ribs, Cruz dashed down the explorers’ passage. He charged up two flights of stairs and down the fourth-deck passage, not slowing until he reached the last compartment. Cruz slid to a stop inside sick bay, nearly colliding with Taryn, who was standing in the small reception area. “Hubbard…what’s the matter? Is he hurt or sick, which one?” cried Cruz, a cramp slicing into his side.

  Taryn quickly shook her head.

  Oh no! No! He was too late!

  Digging his fingers into the sides of his waist, Cruz fell forward. A wave of sadness overwhelmed him. Tears sprang to his eyes. What could have happened? And how? Hubbard was perfectly fine yesterday. “Oh, Taryn,” choked Cruz, feeling himself crumple. “I loved him. I loved him so much.”

  A hand was on his back. “Cruz? Hubbard’s okay.”

  His head shot up.

  “He’s here for his annual exam with Dr. Eikenboom,” said Taryn.

  “Then he’s not…?”

  “He’s a healthy two-year-old pup with more energy than all of you explorers combined.”

  Cruz let out the longest sigh of his life. “It’s just that…I’ve been trying to find you all day, and when I finally did you asked me to come up
here…and you sounded funny, I thought…I thought…”

  “The worst.” She sucked in her lower lip. “Sorry about that. I’ve been going nonstop since I rolled out of bed this morning. First, I had to deal with Kat and Yulia’s exploding showerhead, and shortly after that, an exploding chef. Chef Kristos is insistent someone is stealing from his herb garden.”

  “Oh yeah?” squeaked Cruz, thinking of the herb trays they had moved. That’s when it hit him. The cipher! In all the excitement, he had forgotten that Hubbard still carried the stone pieces in his life vest.

  At least, Cruz hoped he did. The doctor or Taryn most certainly would have removed the vest for the dog’s exam. It’s possible one of them had discovered the cipher hidden inside!

  Taryn was still talking. “After that, I had to send back a shipment of hats and gloves, which were, unfortunately, made for giants, not explorers. And since we’re putting in at Port Vell in Barcelona tomorrow, I spent most of the afternoon confirming our transportation, dining, and…other activities.” She puckered her lips. “Oh, and then I had to track down a retainer that went MIA—”

  “Tao lost it again?”

  “No one will be happier than I when that girl’s teeth are straight.” She shook a finger at him. “And you did not hear me say that. Anyway, after that crisis, I had Hubbard’s exam, which brings me to why I asked you up here. I need a favor. Dr. Eikenboom is giving Hubbard his shots, so it shouldn’t be long, but I’m supposed to be in a conference call with Dr. Hightower in exactly four minutes, and you know how she doesn’t like to be kept waiting—”

  “And you want me to bring Hubbard back down?”

  “Would you?”

  “Sure,” said Cruz. “We’ll make a pit stop at his meadow, too.”

  “Thanks, you’re a lifesaver.”

  “Um…what about his life vest?”

  “That’s right, the nurse has it—could you get that, too?”

  Cruz nodded. He’d be able to check to see if the cipher was still in the side pocket.

  “And I haven’t forgotten about you.” She reached for her tablet. “You’re on my to-do list.”

  “Me? What did I do wrong?”

  “You can pretend everything’s okay, Cruz Coronado, but I know you’re worried about your dad and your aunt, too.”

  “Taryn, I’m fine, really—”

  “I’ll be the judge of that.” She looked at the clock. “We will talk later.”

  It wasn’t a request.

  Catching the doorjamb on her way out, Taryn tapped it. “Oh, and, Cruz?”

  He turned, expecting more instructions.

  “Hubbard loves you, too.”

  * * *

  WITH FELIPE’S VIOLIN serenading them through the walls, Cruz dimmed the lights in the cabin. Everyone had agreed to meet in cabin 202 early tonight, to adjust for the 12-hour time difference between the Mediterranean and Hawaii. While the day was winding down for Cruz and his friends, it was just beginning for Lani. Cruz knelt at the little round table between the pair of navy chairs. “Here we go. Ready?”

  “Ready,” said Sailor. She had settled into one of the chairs, her legs tucked under her and her tablet on her lap.

  Emmett was in the other chair, also with his tablet, but he was hugging the penguin pillow so tightly its poor beak was bent. “Me too,” he said.

  From her bedroom in Hanalei, Lani was twisting her hair. The second she’d answered his call, Cruz had blurted, “Promise that you won’t go to the abandoned sugar mill.”

  “But the clue—”

  “Promise. It’s too dangerous.”

  Lani had given him her sour-lemon face. “Fine.”

  Cruz slid the journal from its protective cover by the edges and set it on the table. He tapped it with his index finger, then drew back. Like him, Sailor was frozen. Lani, too. Emmett’s mouth was moving. No sound was coming out, but Cruz could lip-read the word: “Please.”

  He joined in the silent chant. Please. Please. Please.

  At first, nothing. A few more seconds passed. And then—something. The page twitched.

  A flap appeared. It unfolded from the center of the square. The first flap was followed by another, then another. Faster and faster the flaps appeared, creased, and folded. They went quickly, going this way and that, up and down, corner to corner, building layer upon layer until they had created a ball covered with dozens of small triangles.

  “Yes!” shouted Lani once the journal had completed its transformation into a multi-pointed orb.

  Cruz, however, said nothing. He knew they weren’t out of the woods yet.

  Seconds later, an orange light appeared at one of the tips that faced Sailor. She quickly spun the ball to direct the light at Cruz. The beam steadily swept over his face, chest, and stomach. It shut off. This was the real test. Would the journal open a second time?

  Nobody moved. Cruz felt almost as warm as he had in the greenhouse.

  “Hi, Cruzer.”

  Cruz exhaled. Emmett fell back into his chair. Sailor and Lani clapped.

  “Hi, Mom,” laughed Cruz.

  “Cruz, do you have the second piece of the cipher?” She flipped her long blond hair over one shoulder the same way she had the first time she’d asked him that question.

  Extending his arm, Cruz uncurled his fingers to show her the stone in his palm. He’d had no trouble getting it. Both pieces of the cipher had been right where Cruz had left them, safe and sound inside the tiny pocket of Hubbard’s yellow life vest. The Westie had been a good watchdog, even if he hadn’t realized it.

  “Well done,” said his mother. “This is a genuine piece. You have unlocked a new clue.”

  The explorers cheered but quickly quieted down as Petra Coronado continued speaking.

  “To find the third cipher, travel to the ancient rose city of stone. Walk on confetti until you find the animal that is at home both in the clouds and under the sea. It may seem like a strange mythical creature, but at the end of the day, if you’re willing to reach out, you’ll have your reward.”

  Cruz frowned. The rose city? That seemed awfully general. There were probably lots of cities with that nickname.

  “You’ll figure it out,” said his mother, seeming to read his mind. “Unfortunately, I have no one I can send you to if you need help. This time, Cruzer, I’m afraid you’re on your own.”

  “I’ll be okay, Mom.” He tried to sound brave, but inside he was shriveling.

  As they got to work on the clue, Cruz tried not to show that he was upset. But he was. And about so many things. The most important, of course, was his father. Each minute that ticked by was one more minute his dad was in the hands of the enemy. It was almost more than he could bear, which is why Cruz had to turn his mind to something else whenever he did think about it. He was also worried about Aunt Marisol and Lani. If one or both of them got too close to the truth, there was no telling what Nebula would do. And then there was Jericho Miles. Cruz had no idea what to make of him. Why was he on board Orion? What was the Synthesis doing behind the secret door two decks down? Were they here for the advancement of science or for him? Finally, there was the cipher. Making a decoy had seemed like a good idea when Sailor had suggested it, but now Cruz wasn’t so sure. What if Nebula caught on? Despite Cruz’s best efforts to keep his plans secret, Nebula always seemed to find out what he was up to. With his father’s life on the line, it didn’t seem smart to try to fool them.

  All these problems—how did he begin to sort them out? If only Cruz could talk things through with his dad or Aunt Marisol the way he was used to doing. But, of course, that was impossible.

  Sailor was frowning at him. “You don’t like the idea?”

  “Sorry. What idea?”

  “We thought we’d search for the rose city, you know, start with a location.”

  “That…that sounds fine,” he said.

  “Let’s make a list of everything we can find that mentions it,” said Emmett, reaching for his tablet. “Tomorrow, w
e’ll start sorting through it all and narrow things down.”

  Cruz nodded his approval, but his head was swimming. In the end, all his doubts and worries and fears amounted to one thought—a question, really. It was one terrifying what-if that he could not ignore.

  What if Cruz couldn’t save his dad?

  CRUZ SQUISHED his nose against the window. He was riding in the second of two vans carrying the explorers from the harbor into downtown Barcelona.

  Squinting up into the mid-morning sun, Cruz tried to catch a glimpse of an iron statue perched atop a 200-foot pillar. Unfortunately, all he could see was an arm pointing out to the western Mediterranean. Lining the opposite side of the four-lane ring of pavement were several grand buildings. Their Roman columns and pointed rooflines reminded Cruz of the Academy’s headquarters in Washington, D.C. The only difference that he could see in the quick moment was that above each of these structures, the red-and-yellow flag of Spain flapped in the November wind. They sailed past a pale yellow castle-like building with arched windows and scrollwork balconies. In the seat in front of him, Bryndis pointed to the winged-lion statues proudly standing guard on the roof. “It looks like something right out of a fairy tale.”

  The next block down, a glint of sunlight off metal blinded Cruz. Blinking away the spots, he saw a series of thin silver hoops rising from the brick sidewalk. They were so tall they easily curled over the palm trees and so wide that a couple of the rings straddled the intersection.

  “It’s called Onades,” said Emmett, who was next to Bryndis. He was wearing his GPS sunglasses over his regular emoto-glasses. Fanchon’s GPS, which could be activated by either the explorers’ sunglasses or the Earth pins on their lapels, projected opaque images of street maps, monuments, tourist attractions, and other points of interest for any city in the world. “It’s made up of seven stainless-steel arches, is one hundred thirty-eight feet high, and weighs more than three thousand pounds,” said Emmett, reading the text in his sunglasses. “It was designed by artist Andreu Alfaro. Constructed in 2003, it is meant to represent the waves crashing onto Barcelona’s coast.”