Science Fair (24 page)

Vaderian considered their options. They could wait here in the basement until the people upstairs—the little weasel’s parents, no doubt—had gone to sleep. But that could be hours.

And even then, how could he and the Wookiee get the col ection up the stairs and out the back door without being heard? Or what if the people upstairs noticed the broken doorknob on the basement door? What if they decided to come downstairs?

Vaderian pondered this, trying to figure out how he and the Wookiee would respond. One thing he knew for sure: now that he had found the mother lode, he wasn’t about to let it out of his grasp.

Listening to the footsteps overhead, Vaderian tightened his grip on the light saber.

He would
not
let these people stop him.

T
OBY, TAMARA, AND MICAH
sat in uncomfortable plastic chairs on one side of the long wooden conference table. Drmtsi and Vrsk sat across from them, chomping their way through the plateful of muffins, which they had moved onto the table for easier access. The five of them had been sitting in silence for a while, pondering their situation and waiting for whatever was going to happen next. Toby was stil holding the stick of Air Zerkistan chewing gum that Vrsk had given him; he planned to use it when the feds returned. Meanwhile, there was nothing to do but wait and watch the weird foreign guys eating the muffins.

Final y, tired of the silence, Toby spoke to the men across the table.

“Where are you guys from, anyway?” he said.

“We are from Krpshtskan,” said Vrsk, pronouncing the name of the country in such a way that he sent a spray of muffin crumbs halfway across the table.

“Where’s that?” said Toby, eyeing the crumbs warily.

“Is near Fazul,” said Vrsk.

“Fazul?” said Toby.

“You know Fazul?” said Vrsk.

“No,” said Toby.

“Is very famous hole there,” said Vrsk. “Great Hole of Fazul. You never heard of this?”

“Sorry, no,” said Toby. He glanced at the ceiling, where he was pretty sure there were cameras and microphones. He decided he no longer cared: he wanted to know who these guys were.

“So,” he said. “What brings you here?”

“What?” said Vrsk.

“Why did you come to the United States?” said Toby.

Vrsk’s eyes darted sideways toward Drmtsi before he answered. “We are tourists,” he said. “We are here for touristism.”

“Is that why you were at Jungle Norman’s?” said Toby.

“Yes,” said Vrsk. “We were touristing at Jungle of Norman.”

“And you don’t know anything about the thing that was in the goril a’s hat?”

Vrsk nearly choked on his muffin, then coughed for half a minute before he could speak. “No,” he said final y. “We are never seeing this goril a before. Is stranger goril a to us.”

“Real y,” said Toby.

“In our country,” said Vrsk, “is no goril as. Is mostly goats. But not singing.”

Drmtsi, who had been watching this conversation with narrowed eyes, swal owed a mouthful of muffin and said to Vrsk in Krpsht, “What are you talking to this boy about?”

“He is asking why we are here. I told him we are tourists.”

“Good,” said Drmtsi. “But now stop talking to the boy, because I must tel you the plan to escape.”

“Escape?” said Vrsk.

“Yes,” said Drmtsi. “It is our duty to escape and help Prmkt destroy America. Also, I must order more merchandise from the television shopping people.”

“But there are many guards here,” said Vrsk. “Perhaps we should wait for—”

“No time to wait!” snapped Drmtsi. “Here is the plan. Do you have any more smerk?”

Vrsk felt his pants. “A little,” he said.

“Good,” said Drmtsi. “When the guards come back, I wil watch them for the right moment. This moment is when the door is unlocked, and the guards are nearby to you. At this right moment I wil give you a secret signal, like this.”

Drmtsi clapped his hands twice, startling Toby, Micah, and Tamara.

“These guys,” said Tamara, “are even weirder than they smel .”

Drmtsi glanced at her, then continued speaking to Vrsk in Krpsht. “When you hear this secret signal, you wil take the smerk from your pants and hurl it into the eyes of the guards.”

“Their
eyes
?” said Vrsk. “Are you sure?” There was an old expression in Krpshtskan that roughly translated to “Better to have an angry scorpion in your underwear than smerk in your eyes.”

“Yes, I am sure,” said Drmtsi. “When you throw the smerk, I wil run out the door and escape.”

“I see,” said Vrsk. He frowned. “But how wil I escape?”

Drmtsi reached for another muffin. “Maybe, after hurling the smerk, you can run out the door also,” he said. “But if not, Prmkt and I wil come get you after we destroy America.”

“I see,” said Vrsk.

“It is a good plan, yes?” said Drmtsi, chewing.

“Yes,” Vrsk agreed, although not sincerely.

The hal outside echoed with the sound of approaching footsteps. Al eyes turned to the door, which opened; in walked agents Turow, Iles, and Lefkon, who closed the door behind them. Toby quietly removed the Air Zerkistan gum from its wrapper, put it into his mouth, and began chewing. It was like chewing cardboard, only it didn’t taste as good. Across the table, Drmtsi sat up, and watching the agents closely, prepared to give the attack signal to Vrsk when they got close enough.

But the agents didn’t approach the two men. Instead they went to the head of the table. They looked tired, and they were. They’d been up al night monitoring their suspects, first in their sleeping quarters, then in the conference room; both rooms, as Toby had suspected, were bugged. The agents had hoped to learn something, anything, about the relationship between the Krpshtskanis and the children. They had been disappointed. The children had said little, obviously aware of the cameras and microphones. The two men had spoken, but mostly to each other, and in a language nobody in the building understood; their conversation had been recorded and sent to government linguists with an urgent request for translation.

Meanwhile, there was intense pressure on Turow and the others from higher-ups in a half-dozen government agencies to find out who the Krpshtskanis were, what connection they had with these children, and—above al —how this motley group came to be in possession of what was supposed to be extremely classified technology.

Turow leaned on the table with both arms and glared. The agents had decided to use the Good Cop/Bad Cop interrogation technique. Lefkon was the Good Cop; Turow was the Bad Cop.

“Al right,” Turow said. “We need some answers, and if we don’t start getting them
right now
, things are going to get very unpleasant for al of you.” Micah raised his hand.

“What?” said Turow.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” said Micah.

“Tough,” sneered Bad Cop Turow.

“But I—”

“I said NO!” bel owed Turow, slapping his hands hard on the table causing Micah to jerk backward so hard he almost tipped his chair over.

“Hey, easy,” said Good Cop Lefkon, putting a restraining hand on Turow’s arm. “If he has to go to the bathroom, let him go.” Turow glared at Lefkon as though he was about to slap
her
, although of course this was part of the act. For several dramatic seconds the room was silent as the two agents faced off. The silence was broken by Tamara.

“So, let me guess,” she said. “You”—she pointed at Turow—“are the Bad Cop, and you”—she pointed at Lefkon—“are the Good Cop.” Turow sighed. Lefkon suppressed a giggle. They were both thinking the same thing:
These kids watch too much television
. Turow was pondering what he would say next when Vrsk said, “He is growing dark.”

“What?” said Turow.

“Boy,” said Vrsk, pointing at Toby. “He is dark.”

Everyone looked. Tamara screamed. Toby’s face had turned a startling deep purple. His eyebal s were rol ed back, wide-open, showing only the whites. His body was rigid, vibrating; cords stood out in his neck.

“Toby, what’s happening?” shouted Micah at his friend.

“He’s having a seizure,” said Iles, moving quickly to Toby. “Get some help!”

Lefkon ran from the room; Turow stood guard by the door. Drmtsi and Vrsk exchanged a look, but there was no opportunity to execute Drmtsi’s escape plan. A moment later Lefkon returned with the facility nurse, a man named Levine. He went to Toby, who was lying on his back on the floor, moaning. Toby’s color was starting to return. He had quietly spat the gum into his hand.

“Son,” said Levine, “can you hear me?”

“Yes,” said Toby weakly.

“Can you tel me what happened?” said Levine.

“No,” said Toby.

Levine examined Toby briefly, then said to Iles, “I’m going to move him to the station for observation.” Iles, Turow, and Lefkon exchanged glances, then Iles said, “Okay. But you stay with him, and you keep the door locked.”

Levine nodded and said, “I’l get a wheelchair.”

In a few minutes, Toby was being wheeled down the hal to the first-aid station. He was feeling much better now; he always recovered quickly from the gum al ergy. But he pretended he was stil very weak. He felt a jolt of excitement as Levine wheeled him into the little room: the manila envelopes were stil in the plastic box on the desk.

Levine helped Toby onto the cot, then took his pulse and blood pressure, and shone a light into his eyes. He asked a few questions, which Toby avoided answering by pretending to be tired and dazed. After a few minutes, Levine told Toby he’d be outside, and left the room. He closed the door; Toby heard the click of the dead bolt.

Toby lay on the cot for a minute, then rose, crept to the desk, and looked through the envelopes. One had his name on it. He opened it; inside were his iPhone and his hat. He reached into his back pocket and pul ed out the two spare fiber-optic filaments. He uncoiled them and, glancing at the door every few seconds, attached them to the hat, then the iPhone, then the insoles in his shoes.

He stood up, hoping there was power left in the phone battery. He turned it on; the screen lit up. He pressed the magic-wand icon, then looked down at his legs. They weren’t there.

Toby’s eyes scanned the room, stopping at a wal -mounted phone. Toby went to it, lifted the handset, unplugged the cord, and tossed the handset under the cot. He turned off the light; the windowless room went dark. He positioned himself on the back wal of the room next to the cot facing the door. He took a deep breath and shouted, “Help!” In seconds, Levine unlocked the door and swung it open. His eyes went to the cot, and in the dim light he saw that it was vacant. He stood in the doorway, scanning the smal room.

He did not see Toby, who stood just five feet away.

Toby tensed, praying that Levine would now look in the one remaining hiding place—behind the door.

Levine stepped into the room, swung the door partway closed, and looked behind it. As he did, Toby lunged past him through the doorway, grabbing the door and yanking it closed.

Levine shouted as Toby spun and twisted the dead bolt. Levine attempted to turn the knob, but finding it locked, hurled himself against the door. He shouted and pounded.

Toby looked both ways down the corridor; it was empty. For now, nobody could hear Levine. Toby started running toward the conference room. Behind him, Levine stopped pounding; Toby figured he was now groping for the wal phone in the dark. It would take him a while to find the handset.

Toby sprinted down the corridor, considering his next move. His goal was to spring Micah and Tamara somehow, get out of this place somehow, get to the Science Fair, and somehow stop whatever was going to happen from happening. It was a lot of somehows.
One at a time
, he told himself.

As he approached a corridor intersection he slowed down to soften his footsteps. He turned right into the cross corridor; the conference room door where Tamara and Micah were being held was about twenty-five feet ahead on the left. There was a large man by the door, apparently standing guard. Toby looked past him al the way down the corridor. At the far end glowed a red EXIT sign.

Toby cupped his hands in front of his mouth and, in his deepest official-announcement voice, said, “ATTENTION ALL PERSONNEL.” The guard startled, spun, and looked right at Toby. He frowned, seeing nothing.

“THIS IS AN EMERGENCY,” said Toby. “WE HAVE…UM…POISON GAS IN THE BUILDING. ALL PERSONNEL WILL PROCEED TO THE NEAREST EXIT IMMEDIATELY.” The guard, stil frowning, took a few steps toward Toby, his eyes searching the wal s and ceiling for the source of the sound.

“THIS IS NOT A DRILL,” said Toby. “THIS IS REALLY POISONOUS GAS. IT WILL EAT YOUR SKIN AND, UH, EXPLODE YOUR EYEBALLS.” Toby backed up quietly as the guard kept coming closer, approaching the corridor intersection. Toby slipped past him and hurried quietly to the conference room door. He careful y unlocked the dead bolt, constantly checking to his left, where the guard, stil facing away from him, was searching for the source of the earlier announcement. Toby then quietly turned the knob, opened the door, and stepped inside. Tamara, Micah, and the weird foreign guys were stil sitting at the table. Al four heads had turned to face the door, which to them appeared to have opened and closed by itself.