by Trudi Trueit
“Sure you are.”
“I am.”
“Stop!” called Monsieur Legrand.
They obeyed.
Wheezing, Cruz put his hands on his hips. “Dugan, we’re going to lose if we don’t work together. Can we at least agree on that?”
“Yeah,” mumbled his partner.
“If we have to go vinstri, you take the lead since you’re on the left. If we need to go hægri, I’ll take the lead since I’m on the right.”
“Fine,” grumbled Dugan.
Two could play at that game. “Fine.” Cruz spun away so he wouldn’t have to look at Dugan.
No. No! It wasn’t fine. None of this was fine, and it had to stop. Now.
Cruz spun back. “I’m sorry you don’t think we like you, Dugan, but you haven’t given us much of a chance. You complain about stuff, you criticize people, you put down ideas—”
“I tell the truth.”
“Can’t you think of something nice to say once in a while? Just one word? To any of us?”
Dugan opened his mouth.
“Go!” shouted Monsieur Legrand
Cruz and Dugan had been so busy arguing they had missed the question and the answer.
“What are you waiting for?” cried Bryndis. “Run! And take your next left.”
They took off. Dugan shot out into the lead with Cruz a split second behind him. They followed the maze as it whipped them left, then right, then left again. They had gone through so many twists and turns, Cruz had no idea which direction they were facing.
“At the next intersection, go right,” said Bryndis. Dugan slid to the side to let Cruz go by.
It was a smooth exchange, and when Monsieur Legrand ordered them to stop, Cruz and Dugan both knew that this had been their best leg so far.
“Better,” said Dugan.
“Much,” agreed Cruz.
“See?”
“See, what?”
Dugan gave a sly smile. “I can think of one nice word.”
Cruz let himself return the grin.
“Sailor and Emmett, you haven’t missed a single question,” said Taryn. “Well done. Here is your ninth question. Where in northern Spain can you find Paleolithic art of animals like bison, horses, and goats, as well as handprints dating back to 35,000 B.C.?”
Cruz knew the answer. It was the Cave of Altamira. He’d hoped they would get to explore it, but Professor Luben had told them it was not open to visitors. So many tourists had visited the cave over the years they had altered the temperature and humidity, damaging some of the art. Now only scientists were allowed inside, and they had to wear protective suits. The best the explorers could do was visit a re-creation of the cave built nearby.
Dugan was tapping him. “Altamira, right?”
“Yep.”
“I’m sorry I’m so negative,” said Dugan. “I don’t mean to be. I have a lot on my mind.”
“Like…?”
He heard a sigh. “It’s…my family…Don’t tell anybody, but I may have to leave the Academy.”
“What?”
“The Cave of Altamira,” replied Emmett.
“Correct.”
There was no time to talk more. The boys got set.
“Go!” called Monsieur Legrand.
“Straight to the end, then vinstri,” said Bryndis. “I mean, left.”
Cruz moved over to let Dugan go ahead.
“You’re almost there,” cried Bryndis. “You’re almost to the finish. Take your second right and you’ll see the entrance to the center. Second hægri…second right.”
Barreling around the last turn, Dugan and Cruz flew through a cypress arch. They lunged for the statue. Cruz jumped to grab an ankle, while Dugan clung to the round sandstone base.
“Time!” called Professor Luben.
Cruz and Dugan collapsed onto their backs, heaving. They had done it! They had made it through the Horta labyrinth. But had they gone fast enough to win? They’d have to wait and see.
Cruz held up his left forearm, palm out. His chest still going up and down, Dugan slapped it.
“Hey, I never noticed you have a tattoo,” said Dugan.
“Birthmark,” corrected Cruz. He tensed, waiting for the insult that was sure to come.
But all Dugan said was, “You’re a walking Photo 51.”
“Huh?”
“Photo 51. It’s only the most important photograph ever taken.” Dugan sat up. “An x-ray image, actually. It was the first to show that human DNA was shaped like a double helix.”
Cruz had heard of the pioneering picture but hadn’t remembered the number.
“Photo 51 was taken in the 1950s.” Professor Luben was towering over them. “A grad student of scientist Rosalind Franklin’s used x-ray crystallography techniques that she’d developed.” He raised an eyebrow. “Unfortunately, without her knowledge, a colleague showed the image to a couple of competing scientists, Crick and Watson, who used it as a basis for their double-helix model.”
“That doesn’t seem fair,” said Cruz.
“It’s not uncommon for one scientist to build on the ideas of another,” said their teacher. “That’s how we make progress. But in this case, the scales seemed to tip against Dr. Franklin. A decade after the photo was taken, Crick and Watson won the Nobel Prize for their double-helix model. However, Franklin had passed away and could not be considered for the award. History, in the meantime, gave much of the credit for discovering DNA’s double-helix shape to Crick and Watson.”
“Still seems unfair,” said Cruz.
“That must be why the Academy’s library is named after Dr. Franklin,” said Dugan. “So we’ll remember her.”
“The school also has an award named in her honor,” added their professor. “The Rosalind Franklin award is given to any explorer of any age who contributes to a major scientific breakthrough or discovery.”
“I’ve never heard of it,” said Cruz. Dugan was shaking his head, too.
“I don’t imagine they’ve handed out too many,” said the professor.
Cruz wondered if Emmett might win it for his Lumagine invention. Could Cruz nominate his friend? He’d have to look into it.
“Hold on.” Professor Luben put a hand to his headset. “Guys, the next team is ready to run! Let’s get you out of here.”
Scrambling to their feet, Cruz and Dugan hurried out of the maze. Officer Dover met them at the main path. “Did you have fun?” she asked.
Cruz looked at Dugan. His teammate wore a gigantic grin. “Yes,” said Dugan enthusiastically. “We did.”
“Follow me, please.” She took them up some steps to another beautiful garden in the park, where their teammates were waiting by a koi pond the size of a swimming pool.
“Great job!” cried Emmett.
“You guys, too. Perfect score.” Cruz grinned at Bryndis. “And excellent instructions. I now know my left from my right in Icelandic.”
Bryndis smiled back.
“Good run,” Sailor said to Dugan.
Instead of his usual I-couldn’t-care-less sneer, Dugan said, “Thanks. You guys were great, too.”
Cruz saw Sailor jerk back in surprise.
“Let’s get something to eat.” Emmett had turned and was walking backward toward a tent at the opposite corner of the pond. Under the big red tent, a table had been set up with juices, fruit, crackers, and assorted Spanish cheeses, like buttery manchego and Valdeón, a marbled blue cheese. There were also small finger foods, called tapas: sliced tomatoes with olive oil on toasted bread rounds and lightly fried fritters filled with ham, chicken, or spinach.
“Croquetas—yum!” said Cruz, stacking several of the chicken-finger-shaped fritters on his plate. “Aunt Marisol will be sad to miss this.” He turned to Sailor and Emmett, who were in line behind him, and whispered, “I have to talk to you.”
Emmett tipped his head, as if to say, Tell us now, but Cruz knew this wasn’t the time or place to share that he had maybe—no, definitely—run past Mr. Rook.
“Later.” Cruz reached for a small cluster of red grapes. He wanted to talk to Dugan more about why his teammate might have to leave the Academy, but Dugan had wandered off.
They had to wait for nearly an hour before the other teams were finished, but finally all the explorers were together again at the rail overlooking the labyrinth.
“Congratulations!” said Taryn. “Every one of you displayed excellent teamwork skills, and in the end, the times were close. Before Monsieur Legrand reveals the winning team, I’ll let Professor Luben tell you about the prize…Uh…where is he…?” She glanced around the group. “Is he still eating lunch? Professor Luben?”
“Coming! I’ll be right there…”
Everyone turned, trying to figure out where his voice was coming from.
“Professor Luben?” Taryn called again.
“Down there!” Ali pointed to a spot below them. “I think he’s lost in the maze!”
They saw a hand appear from between the hedges. He was! Professor Luben was stuck in the labyrinth. The explorers started snickering.
“I think he needs a spotter,” yelled Dugan, which only made them laugh harder.
They waited while Monsieur Legrand coached their teacher out of the puzzle of paths.
Professor Luben joined them at the top of the steps, only slightly out of breath. “My apologies. Guess I zigged when I should have zagged. Anyway, I’m sure you’re all anxious to hear about the prize. I am proud to announce that the winning team of today’s competition will get”—he paused dramatically—“to choose where we go in the Mediterranean for your first archaeological expedition!”
Really? They would get to choose? Cool!
“Greece, Italy, Egypt, Turkey, Malta—you name it. The choice is yours,” said their instructor. “However, I suspect some of you may want to select the country where you’ve been surveying looting tiles.” He shot Cruz a smirk.
Of course! Professor Luben’s cryptic message to Dugan and him about winning the competition was becoming clear. It also explained Cruz’s conversation with Aunt Marisol before she’d left Orion. His aunt had said she couldn’t tell him the location of the mystery expedition, that he’d understand once they reached Barcelona. And she was right. Aunt Marisol wouldn’t tell Cruz where the expedition would take him because she couldn’t. She didn’t know.
“You’ll select the country, and I’ll help you pinpoint a good site,” explained their teacher. “Also, the winning team will get to lead the expedition. I wonder where we’ll be going!”
Professor Luben’s words sinking in, the team members began turning to one another. Twenty-three explorers started talking at once.
Cruz and Dugan motioned for Sailor, Emmett, and Bryndis to huddle up. “Remember the looting tile we found with the circle outlines?” asked Cruz. “Just before we went through the maze, Professor Luben told Dugan and me that it’s likely an archaeological site.”
Bryndis’s mouth dropped. “You mean, we discovered something?”
“That’s the good news,” said Dugan. “The bad news is nobody knows what it is.”
“Now is our chance to find out,” piped up Emmett. “If we win, we’ll go to Turkey and unearth the circles. We’ll be famous explorers!”
Sailor thumped him on the shoulder. “If we win.”
Monsieur Legrand blew his whistle. “Only one team gets the prize, and you can hash it out then. Time for the results.” He lifted his clipboard. “In fourth place, with a time of seven minutes and forty-seven seconds, Team Galileo.”
Everyone clapped politely. Team Galileo shuffled their feet in disappointment.
“In third place, with a time of six minutes and nineteen seconds, Team Earhart.”
More applause. More sad faces.
Sailor dug her fingers into Cruz’s upper arm. “It’s Magellan or us. Please let it be us. Please let it be us…”
Cruz silently took up the chant. His team had so much more at stake than everyone else. They had a site to explore—and not just any site but one they had discovered! How many teams could say that? They had to win. They just had to.
“First, I should tell you,” said Monsieur Legrand, “that the last two teams were separated by only eight seconds. That’s how close it was between first and second place, so win or lose, you all should be quite proud. And now, with a time of four minutes and fourteen seconds, the winner of the Horta Labyrinth Challenge is…”
Sailor’s fingernails were breaking Cruz’s skin, Emmett’s glasses resembled yellow-and-green pinwheels in a windstorm, Bryndis looked like she’d been holding her breath underwater too long, and Dugan was clutching his water bottle so hard, Cruz was sure it was going to burst.
“…Team Magellan!”
* * *
BACK IN THEIR CABIN for the night, Emmett plopped into the navy chair opposite Cruz. “I can’t believe we lost to Magellan.”
“I know,” sighed Cruz, glancing up from his tablet. “Did Magellan choose where we’re going yet?”
“I don’t think it’s official, but it’s gotta be Egypt—that was their country in the looting tiles assignment.”
“Egypt’s cool. Maybe we’ll find a lost pyramid.”
“Yeah,” said Emmett, but the thought did little to cheer them up. Everyone on Team Cousteau had their hearts set on going to Turkey to explore their site, and now it wasn’t going to happen. Someone else was going to make the big discovery that should have been theirs. It wasn’t fair.
Cruz called Lani again. He had been trying to reach her for a half hour, but she wasn’t picking up. “Come on, Lani,” he groaned.
“Are you going to tell her about seeing Mr. Rook?” asked Emmett.
Cruz nodded.
“You’re sure it was him?”
“Yes.” Once the initial shock had worn off, Cruz knew what, or rather, whom he had seen.
“I wonder what he wants—to finish what he started?”
“Maybe, but if he wanted to kill me, he had the perfect opportunity in the maze,” reasoned Cruz. He had only seen the former Academy librarian for a moment, but in that fraction of a second, he had not seen anger or vengeance in his eyes. Cruz had a feeling something else was going on. “It was almost like…like he was trying to tell me, I’m still around. Not in a bad way. Not in a good way. Just…you know…I’m here.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t like him being here,” clipped Emmett. “You promised Dr. Hightower you’d tell her if Mr. Rook ever showed up again—”
“I did. I sent a message to Dr. H, ship security, and my aunt. I talked to Captain Iskandar, too. I had to let him know we needed to get to Petra.”
At that, Emmett’s eyes grew. “What’s the plan?”
“This weekend, Sailor, you, and I will take a flight from Barcelona to Amman. From there, we’ll drive to Petra and search for the cipher. In the meantime, Orion will put out into the Mediterranean and head to Turkey. Once we’ve got the cipher, we’re to contact the ship, and Captain Iskandar will send the ship’s helicopter for us.”
“What about Taryn?”
“Dr. Hightower said she’d handle it.” Cruz tapped Lani’s icon on his screen again. “She’s still not answering.”
“Is she online?”
“Uh-huh.”
Emmett held out his hand for Cruz’s tablet. Cruz gave it to him, though he didn’t see how his roommate was going to get through when he couldn’t. Flopping back in the chair, Cruz put a hand to his head. Girls. Emmett began tapping at the touch-screen keyboard. Soon, his lips turned up at the corners.
Cruz knew that grin. He sat up. “What?”
“She’s wearing her headset. I’ve tapped into the video.”
“Where is she?”
“Outside. I think I can get us into the communications system, too. Give me a couple of seconds…”
Getting up, Cruz pulled his chair so he was sitting elbow to elbow with Emmett and could see Lani’s view. The camera was bobbing. Lani’s head was down, her eyes on the gr
ound as she picked her way across an uneven grassy field. What was she doing? Playing soccer or baseball? He didn’t see or hear anyone around her. Finally, Lani lifted her head, and Cruz saw a row of rusty buildings, sagging smokestacks, and decaying pipes.
He knew exactly where she was. And after she had promised, too!
“Got it,” said Emmett. “We’re in.”
“Leilani Kealoha!” cried Cruz.
“Arggh! Tiko, I told you not to yell in my ear—”
“I’m not Tiko, and you broke your word.”
The camera froze. “Cruz?”
“Surprise,” he said flatly.
The picture went blurry as she spun. “How did you…how are you—”
“Emmett hacked into your headgear. That’s my explanation. What’s yours? You said you would stay away from the abandoned sugar mill.”
“Uh…well, I know, but…after I got to thinking about it, I had to come,” she sputtered. “In my defense, technically you never specified which mill I was supposed to stay away from. There are a couple on the island, you know.”
He knew she’d agreed to his terms too easily. “Lani, if Nebula is in there…if you get caught—”
“Nobody’s here. Tiko and I did a full surveillance sweep. The place is empty. I’m going in for a quick look. Tiko’s back on the main road keeping watch.” She began picking her way across the field toward the dilapidated factory once more. “So now that you’re here, want to come along? I thought I’d check out the silo for clues. It’s the one place where the roof isn’t caving in. I’ll make it quick.”
“You’d better.”
A few yards from the silo, Lani ducked to go through a thicket of overgrown bushes. Twenty feet later, she pushed aside the last of the branches. She was under a canopy of trees. The camera took a moment to adjust to the darkness. Lani gently moved a corroded iron gate barely clinging to its post. It squeaked, sending goose bumps down Cruz’s arms.
“I don’t like this,” he said to Emmett, who gave him a rapid nod.
“Almost there,” whispered Lani, swiping at a thatch of branches and brambles to reach the door. The camera picked up a glint of silver. “Look! That’s a new lock.”
