Captain Lee pinched his lips closed and released a long, slow breath from his nose. Cassandra walked off into the corner behind the Daedalus Chariot and beckoned for the captain to join her. Emmett and Molly exchanged concerned glances while their parents conferred in whispers, out of sight.
“They are telling secrets,” said Robot. “Either that or they have chosen an odd moment to critique the paint job on the flying machine.”
Cassandra and Captain Lee finally came back. “You’re right. Keeping this knowledge to ourselves could potentially put others at risk,” the captain said. “Tonight, we will compose a letter of warning, which, tomorrow, I will take to the post office for delivery.”
“The post office in Haverford Hills, across the Kentucky border,” Cassandra added. “So it won’t be stamped with a postmark that can lead anybody back to us.”
“Who are you going to send it to?” Emmett asked.
“Agent Clark,” said Cassandra.
Molly winced. “He might be the government’s anti-Rector guy, but he’s also their anti-us guy.”
“That’s why our letter will be anonymous and untraceable,” said Cassandra. “That horrid Agent Clark will receive the information in his New York office, send word to his law enforcement chums in Washington, and—voilà—our Rector problem gets taken care of. By someone else.”
Captain Lee crossed his arms. “I trust this course of action satisfies everyone?”
“Not me,” said Orla. “It’ll be a much better story if you folks go chase the villain yourselves.”
“Wh-where did you come from?” Captain Lee sputtered.
“New York, originally,” Orla replied. “And Sir Robot was right, by the way. I would’ve said dragons.” Luddie pulled her back behind the hay bale that had been their hiding place.
Molly laughed despite her frustration. “I told you two to go home!”
“Yeah, we didn’t do that,” Luddie said. “And once again, might I point out that, for people who are supposed to be in hiding, you’re pretty stink-awful at security around here.”
“Girls, please,” Cassandra said, shooing them out the door.
“You should play hide-and-seek with us next time, Emmmmmmett,” Orla called back as they left. “I know lots of good hiding spots around your house!”
Cassandra furrowed her brow. “Something tells me she’s being very literal about that.”
“You should go play with them now,” Captain Lee said, patting his son on the back. “Go have fun. Let me and Mrs. Pepper worry about this other business.”
“But how do we know the letter will be enough?” Emmett asked.
“It will,” his father said, ruffling his hair. “Now, please, go be a child and enjoy your youth. That’s the gift we’ve been given here in Ohio, after all. That’s what we can’t risk by going back to New York and getting mixed up in this Rector affair ourselves.”
Cassandra smiled and kissed Molly’s forehead, before following Captain Lee to the house to compose their letter.
Finally alone, Emmett turned to Molly. “This isn’t just about getting your name in the history books, right?” he asked cautiously.
“No.”
“Okay.” Emmett nodded. “So what are we really going to do about Rector?”
14
A Capital Idea
MOLLY LAY CROSSWISE on her bed with her legs propped up against the bright yellow wall of her room. Her eyes followed a beetle on the ceiling, while her mind pondered a plan. The tiny red insect flew past her feet, into the dusky sky outside her bedroom window, and Molly nodded. “We need to take the high road.”
“I agree,” Emmett said. He sat on the edge of her bed with Robot, hunched over the open newspaper as they scoured the articles for ideas and inspiration. “I’ll make no mystery of it: I like it here. Turns out I’m a lot more suited to the quiet life than I’d anticipated. But preventing Rector’s next bout of mayhem is more important than that. We’re the only ones who know he’s out there, and that means we have the responsibility to do something about it. Whether our parents want to admit it or not.”
Molly rolled onto her belly and grinned at him. “Why, Emmett Lee, are you—dare I say it—rebelling?”
“I am not rebelling.” He sounded scandalized.
“To act in opposition to authority,” said Robot. “Is that not what rebelling means?”
“Yes, Robot, that is exactly what—”
“I’m not rebelling!” Emmett repeated. “I just think our parents . . . well, they’ve been through a lot. Your mother has finally found some relief after a full year of running—and fighting—for her life. Not to mention her disappointments with the Guild. And my father? Well, I don’t think he’s gotten past the shock of being back in the world yet. Neither of them is thinking clearly about the situation. In another, less troubling time, I think they’d make a different decision. But right now, they need us to do the right thing for them. Which is not the same as rebelling.”
“Whatever you want to call it, I like this feisty new attitude,” Molly said. “But anyway, when I said we need to take the high road, I was being more literal. We need to fly.”
“I can fly,” said Robot.
“No, you can’t,” Molly scolded. “You’ll use up the last of your Ambrosium. And that is something that will never be worth the risk.”
“I said I can fly, not that I will fly,” said Robot. “Do you like my feisty new attitude too?”
Molly made a mental note to stop sending Robot mixed messages about rebellion. “Let’s focus on the plan,” she said, sitting cross-legged on her patchwork quilt. “The biggest problem with warning Agent Clark by mail—other than that it relies on that stiff-wart Clark—is that it’s way too slow. Who knows what havoc Rector will wreak in the week or so it takes that letter to reach New York? The Daedalus Chariot, however, should be able to reach Washington, DC, in a matter of hours.”
“New York, you mean,” said Emmett.
“Who cares about New York? Well, I mean—I do. New York will always be my true home. What I mean is: Who cares about Clark? Rector’s in DC.”
Emmett winced. “Oh,” he said. “So you literally want us to go after Rector ourselves. See, I was still thinking more along the lines of—”
“Relax, Goosey,” Molly said. “I’m talking about warning the person who’s most directly in danger there. And a man who can probably do even more than Clark in terms of rallying forces against Rector.”
Emmett glanced at the newspaper in his hands. “Edison,” he said. “Edison’s going to be in Washington for that rally, and he has no idea that his head of security is secretly Ambrose Rector.”
Molly nodded. “I’m no fan of old Tommy Boy, as you know, but as co-chair of the Inventors’ Guild, Edison practically runs this country already. If anyone can get President Arthur to sic the army on Rector, it’s him. We might not be able to trust Edison, but I think he’d at least listen to us. And he hates Rector as much as we do.”
Emmett looked at the grainy photo in the paper of Thomas Edison standing before a cheering crowd with his arms raised in front of an “Edison for President” banner. “The article says he’s leading in the national polls, you know,” Emmett said. “Do you think he can really win?”
“Against Grover Cleveland and, uh, whoever the other guy is? I don’t see why not,” Molly said. “Everybody loves him. Of course, they don’t know what a backstabbing liar he can be.” She let out a short, caustic laugh. “And if we thought the government gave special privileges to Guild members before, just wait till Thomas Edison is running both.”
“If he wins the presidency, he’ll have to step down from his leadership roles in the Guild and his various companies,” Emmett said. “Wouldn’t he?”
Molly put her arm around his shoulders. “Oh, my dear, sweet Emmett. Sometimes I wish I had your innocent optimism.”
Emmett frowned. “I’m going to try not to be insulted by that.”
“You should not be,�
�� said Robot. “I am also innocent and optimistic. And I am quite happy.”
“Back to this plan of yours, Molly,” said Emmett. She could tell he was trying to hide the skepticism in his voice. “How do we convince our parents that we need to take the Daedalus Chariot to Washington?”
Molly laughed. “Oh, there’s no chance of that. We have to steal it.”
“Oh!” Emmett looked suddenly pale. “Oh, you want to steal . . . and sneak . . . and . . . I see . . . This is maybe a bit more feistiness than I bargained for.”
“Don’t worry,” Orla said excitedly as she and Luddie appeared at the open window. “We’ll help you steal it!”
Emmett jumped to his feet and made sure his shirt was tucked in.
“Hi, Emmmmmett,” Orla singsonged.
“Hey,” Emmett responded, blushing.
“Hello, Orla and Luddie,” Robot said casually.
“Hello, Mr. Knight,” Orla said with a wave.
“Is the dog with you?” Robot asked. “He is quite stealthy.”
Molly rolled over to face the girls. “How long have you two been there?”
“How long have you been in your room?” Luddie asked in return. “It’s not like we have a clock out here.”
Emmett cleared his throat. “Why would you—”
“We’re nosy,” said Orla.
“Which you really should know by now,” added Luddie. She raised an eyebrow. “Sometimes I wonder how people so unobservant have managed to be the heroes of so many great stories.”
“I was going to ask, why would you help us?” Emmett clarified.
“You’re our friends,” Orla said plainly.
“And if this Rector guy is as nasty as your stories make him out to be, we should want him behind bars too, right?” Luddie said. “You’re doing this for all of us.”
She’s right, Molly thought, welling with pride. It wasn’t just for her own sake that she was placing herself directly in Rector’s path of destruction—she was doing it for everyone. She was a hero! A bold, self-sacrificing, shining example to young girls everywhere. And if that didn’t get her name in the history books, nothing would.
“All right, team,” she said. “Let’s do this.”
Later that night, Emmett held his belly and groaned.
“Oh, no. Not you too?” Cassandra asked, feeling his forehead for a nonexistent fever.
“I hope it wasn’t the fish,” Captain Lee said, pausing his dishwashing to sniff the leftover bones of the trout they’d eaten for dinner. “Were you a tricky little tummy wrecker, Mr. Fish?” he asked the skeleton. He then answered for the dead fish in a ridiculous high voice: “Not me, Captain, I’m a good trout. Or I was. Now I’m a ghost trout, because you—” He cleared his throat and looked sheepishly at the others. “Sorry, old habits. It was very lonely in that cave.”
“It’s okay, Papa,” Emmett said. “Anyway, I think it’s just—urg—I think maybe Molly and I both caught something.”
“Yeah,” said Molly. She shuffled slowly to her room, her shoulders drooping with feigned fatigue. “Dr. Stinkums was sneezing all day. I think he gave us a doggy disease.”
“I don’t think that’s a thing that happens,” Cassandra said. “But you two are obviously not in good shape. Get some rest and hopefully you’ll feel better by morning.”
“Just what we were thinking,” Molly said. She noticed her mother had taken her medallion off. She hardly ever took it off. Even though the chain made her neck all red and ouchy-looking.
“I’m sorry, Papa,” Emmett said, lurching into his room and shutting the door.
“I’m sorry if I was the culprit,” Captain Lee called back in his fish voice.
Molly slipped into her room, shut the door, and slumped with relief. For a moment there, she’d been genuinely afraid Emmett was going to crack. Lying was not one of his strengths. Especially lying to his father.
“Ready?” Luddie whispered from where she waited in Molly’s bed.
Molly nodded. “Orla all set in Emmett’s room?”
Luddie gave her a thumbs-up and slipped under the heavy quilt as Molly climbed over her to the open window and slipped out over the sill.
“Good luck,” Luddie whispered. And then she began howling pitifully.
“Don’t overdo it,” Molly cautioned. “You’re supposed to be me, not a wolf.”
Luddie reassured her with another thumbs-up and reduced the volume of her moans. Molly shut the window from the outside and glanced to her left, pleased to see Emmett waiting for her. Pained groans were coming from his bedroom as well.
“Think Orla’s got it covered?” she whispered to him.
He nodded. “She sounds human, at least.”
Together, the two dashed across the moonlit lawn to the barn, where Robot awaited them. Molly was surprised to see all the tools and scrap materials already cleared away and the Daedalus Chariot itself outside the barn’s big wooden doors.
“You didn’t use your magnet powers, did you?” Molly asked.
“I am still alive, am I not?” Robot replied. “Alive and feisty.”
Molly shot him an icy stare. “No more, you hear me? Or you’re not coming with us. I’m serious.”
“I understand,” Robot said softly. But he refused to make eye contact.
“Okay, get in.” Molly waited for Robot to climb awkwardly up onto the old sleigh and slide onto the rear bench before boarding herself and taking the pilot’s seat. “I hope I don’t regret bringing you along.” She attached a tight band to the arms of her eyeglasses and stretched it across the back of her head to hold the spectacles on like a pair of goggles. Then she clicked the motor’s ignition switch and hoped the sisters’ moaning would keep her mother and the captain from hearing the low rumble of the engine. She turned a knob to start the four-bladed rotor spinning overhead.
“Coming!” Emmett whisper-shouted, running from the barn with a gleaming medieval knight’s helmet he’d spent the afternoon crafting out of leftover scrap metal. “Can’t leave without Robot’s disguise,” he said, climbing onto the chariot and passing the helmet to Robot. With luck, anybody who spotted Robot would assume him to be a human in a suit of armor rather than a walking machine.
“I like hats,” Robot said, forcing on the tight-fitting headgear. “How do I look?”
“Anachronistic,” said Emmett. “But I’d rather have people wonder why a knight is strolling the nation’s capital than trying to figure out how an automaton has come to life.”
“Yes,” Molly said with a grin. “Plus, Orla asked you to.”
“Exactly,” said Emmett. “I mean, no. I mean— What? This was not for Orla. Why would—I mean, sure, she inspired the idea, but—it’s not—it’s just . . .”
“Buckle up, mateys!” Molly said, deciding to let Emmett off the hook. “I don’t want to lose any passengers along the way.”
All three strapped on their safety belts and Molly yanked back on the altitudinator. The Daedalus Chariot rose off the ground. “Okay, now how do I go forward?” Molly asked as she tried various levers and knobs.
“The yellow one,” Emmett said, gripping the edge of his seat hard enough to make his knuckles go white.
Molly pulled a small yellow latch and a compartment fell open. A piece of paper blew out and flattened itself across Emmett’s face. “The other yellow one,” Emmett said, daring to let go of his seat long enough to pull the paper off his forehead.
“What’s that?” Molly asked.
“That silly advertisement for the Hidden Hearth Inn,” Emmett said, shoving the paper into his pocket and reclamping his hands around the seat’s edge. “Your mother kept it in the chariot as inspiration. She wants to fly there someday for peace and relaxation.”
“What have these past eight months in Ohio been for?” Molly rolled her eyes. “My mother needs to—”
The flying machine dipped and swerved in a powerful gust of wind before Molly righted it.
“Whee!” said Robot.
“Are you sure I shouldn’t be piloting us?” Emmett asked. “You know, since I helped build it?”
“Do you get as airsick as you do seasick?” Molly asked.
Emmett swallowed hard and flexed his already sore fingers. “You’re right. You drive.”
In a minute’s time, their little yellow farmhouse became a toy-sized box below them. “You know, even if we succeed in thwarting Rector,” Emmett said, “my father is still going to punish me until I’m fifty.”
“Maybe so,” Molly said, settling into a seat designed for someone much taller than she. “But at least there’ll be a world left to be punished in.”
15
Off to See the Wizard
The skies over Washington, DC, October 18, 1884
“FLYING IS NICE.” In the back seat, Robot held his arms out, catching the wind as the Daedalus Chariot bobbed shakily through the clear sky hundreds of feet above southern Maryland. “I miss it.”
“I, on the other hand, have discovered something I like even less than sailing,” Emmett said, doubled over on the front bench next to Molly. “I’m sure my father would be an expert flier,” he grumbled.
“What’s that, Emmett?” Molly snarked. “I can’t hear you with your head between your knees.”
“He said his father would be an expert flier,” Robot helpfully repeated.
“I heard him, Robot. Sarcasm.”
“Ah, yes,” Robot said, his knight helmet clanking as he nodded. “You know who can be very sarcastic? Dr. Stinkums.”
“The dog?” Emmett said, still refusing to look at anything other than the floor between his feet. “How can a dog be sarcastic?”
“If you could see the way he is looking at me right now, you would understand,” said Robot.
Emmett instantly unfolded himself and joined Molly in spinning to face the back seat, where their friends’ patchy mutt was sitting on the floor of the chariot, staring up at Robot with what, if they hadn’t been so shocked, they would have admitted was a rather sarcastic expression.
“What the—? Has he been here the whole time?” Molly sputtered. “Yes, obviously he’s been there the whole time—he didn’t fly up here on his own. But how did we not notice?”
The Final Gambit Page 12
