The Forbidden Fortress Read online

  Maybe Eric was right, and Guidant was the way to help Dr. Underberg’s battery reach the masses.

  The first place Dani took us was the Guidant Renewable Energy Lab, where they showed us prototypes for cell phones that could charge in the sun on the dashboard of a car.

  “Wow,” said Dad. “Totally renewable energy would be even better than the Underberg battery.”

  “Or,” said one of the engineers, “we could combine the technologies to create a battery that would charge easily and last for a long time.”

  I looked at Dad, but he didn’t even seem fazed by the statement. Then again, I didn’t know what kind of conversations he might have already had with Guidant. Maybe he was going to give them the prototype to the battery, and just . . . hadn’t gotten around to mentioning it to us yet.

  I supposed I couldn’t expect him to tell us everything that had happened on his book tour. I should probably get used to it, too. After all, if we were off in Idaho, we’d have no idea what was going on with him.

  After the scientists finished showing us their work, they started asking questions about Omega City. I was surprised to see how many of them had copies of The Forgotten Fortress at their desks.

  “How many machines did you see in the city that were powered by battery?” one of the engineers asked.

  “Well,” said Nate, “not very many of the machines worked, so . . .”

  “The flashlights were,” Howard answered. “And I’m still trying to figure out what’s powering the suits. . . .”

  The engineers crowded around him and began examining the utility suit. “It’s not solar?” said one. Another tugged on the sleeve panels while a third unzipped one of the cargo pockets. When a fourth began patting him down, looking for battery packs in the kneepads, Howard yelped and skittered away.

  “Why don’t you leave it here?” an engineer asked.

  “No!” said Howard, covering the zipper pulls protectively.

  “Don’t worry,” said Dani. “We’d never make you give up your utility suit. Sorry, ladies and gentlemen. Howard doesn’t have anything else to wear.”

  “They can have mine,” Savannah whispered beside me.

  Howard rejoined us. “They broke the zipper pull,” he whined. The hexagonal piece of metal glittered in his palm.

  “Looks like they just disconnected it,” said Savannah.

  “No,” Howard insisted. “They broke it. Look.” He pinched the metal between his fingers, and it folded like origami.

  “Hmm.” Savannah frowned. “We’ll fix it later. Here, I’ll hold it for you.”

  Howard glumly handed it over, and Savannah put it in her purse. I chose not to tell her how often I’d seen Howard sucking on it. If you asked me, that was the real reason it broke off.

  The engineers were just as excited to see us in every department we visited. In the Agricultural Tech Lab, they quizzed us about what we’d seen in the Omega City greenhouse (mostly dead plants), and in the Transportation Research Department, we talked for twenty minutes about elevators.

  “Were you afraid in the elevator shaft?” one computer engineer asked me as he gave me his copy of The Forgotten Fortress to sign.

  “Yes,” I said, feeling a little embarrassed. “I was afraid the whole time. But I didn’t really think about it. I just thought about getting out.”

  “That’s really amazing focus for a girl your age,” he said.

  Was that a compliment? I wasn’t sure. “Thank you?” I was relieved when he moved on.

  “Show me where you broke your teeth,” another employee asked Eric, who promptly gave him a wide grin. “Wow, you can’t even tell!”

  Everywhere we went, the employees had read Dad’s book and were full of questions. Dad hung back for the most part, letting us tell them about our experiences in the city firsthand. In the Jet Lab, everyone wanted to know technical specs for the rocket ship, but not even Howard had much to tell them about that. Eventually, Dani had to cut the engineers off.

  “If only you’d gotten a closer look at the tiles lining the silo,” one scientist remarked sadly.

  “Sorry, dude,” said Nate. “We were too busy running for our lives.”

  At the end, we visited the department working on the Capella project, the giant satellite telescope Guidant had built to help NASA and other space organizations take pictures of NEOs, or “near-Earth objects.” The scientists working on Capella would analyze the data of all the asteroids and comets and other space debris that looked like they had a chance of hitting the Earth.

  “It’s basically like meteorology . . . for actual meteors,” Dani explained. “The further in advance we can identify possible dangers, the more likely we are to be able to divert them or otherwise make sure that they don’t cause problems down here on Earth.”

  “Like the asteroid that killed the dinosaurs?” Howard asked.

  “That would definitely be a worst-case scenario,” Dani said. “An extinction-level event.”

  “What’s an extinction-level event?” Savannah looked horrified.

  “Exactly what it sounds like,” said Nate. “A thing that makes us extinct.”

  Savannah squeaked.

  Dani nodded seriously. “We’re looking out for those, too. But we’re also hoping to avoid smaller but still dangerous asteroids. It doesn’t have to be big to do a lot of damage. Even a small collision could cause tidal waves or airbursts that could destroy electronics systems. Have any of you heard of the Tunguska event? It was what astronomers call an airburst, a meteor strike where the meteor burned up before impact, but the shock wave flattened everything for miles all around.”

  Howard turned to me. “See?” he said. “Tunguska was a meteor.”

  I rolled my eyes. Sure it was.

  “Why is it called Capella?” Howard asked.

  “One of the reasons is that Capella is one of the brightest stars in the sky,” Dani replied. “Elana thought it was fitting with Guidant, you know . . . leading the way and all that.”

  “One of the reasons?” I asked. “Are there others?”

  “Capella is the Goat Star,” Howard interrupted. “I don’t usually think of goats as leaders.”

  “No,” said Nate with a grin, “more like stubborn loners, right, Howard?”

  Dani’s smile was more strained. “But stubborn loners can get the job done, right? Like Dr. Underberg. Or your father.”

  I had to admit, the Capella lab was cool, a large, dark room with huge screens on all the walls showing images of space rocks glittering like massive, fiery jewels, and possible trajectory paths glowing like necklaces across the solar system.

  “Pretty!” Savannah exclaimed.

  “Isn’t it?” said Dani. “Ms. Mero designed the lab herself. It always makes me think of that song ‘Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds.’”

  “Never heard of it,” said Savannah. “What about ‘Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star’?”

  Dani laughed. “Okay, that one works, too.”

  “It makes me feel safe,” Mom said, staring in wonder at the pictures. “Knowing that someone is watching the skies.”

  “Unfortunately,” said Dani, “we’re a lot better at seeing things coming than being able to stop them.”

  I shivered. All of a sudden the dark, cavernous space reminded me more of Omega City, a desperate attempt by humans to save ourselves from forces far, far beyond our control.

  I was relieved when we returned to the sunny atrium. Near the front doors, Dani stopped, turned to us, and said, “Now, you still have about three or four hours before your dinner to explore the campus and have a little fun. There’s smart-court bowling and minigolf, or you could check out our drones, or go boating on the cove . . .”

  “You kids go ahead,” Dad said. “I’ve got a few emails I have to return to help plan the fall tour schedule.”

  I didn’t like the sound of that. This was our first chance to hang out with Dad in weeks and he was going to work the whole time?

  “And yo
u, Nate,” Dani said. “Enjoy your college visit. Where are you going again?”

  As Dani and Nate started talking about college admissions, I tugged Dad’s sleeve. “You aren’t going to come with us today?” At the very least, I wanted to talk to him about Howard’s book and what it might mean for finding Dr. Underberg.

  He shook his head. “I really have to get back to work. But don’t worry. We’ll have all day tomorrow to hang out, okay?”

  We said our good-byes to Nate, and to Mom, who was switching cars with Dad and heading back home. “It was so much fun hearing your stories today,” she told Eric, ruffling his hair. “I’m really proud of you. But I have to be honest, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to listen to your story without having a panic attack.”

  “Mo-om.” Eric shoved her hand away.

  “Just promise me no more death-defying adventures, okay? Or at least call me first?”

  “Don’t worry, Dr. S.,” said Savannah. “I’m never going off exploring again.”

  Mom held out her arms for me. “Hug before I go?”

  I dutifully trotted over.

  “You were so amazing today, sweetie,” she said softly. “You’re becoming such an impressive young woman, and it was a privilege to listen to you tell your story.”

  “Thank you,” I mumbled into her shirt.

  “All right,” she said, and pulled away. “I’ll see you guys at home. Have a great weekend!”

  She waved and headed off with Nate, while we went with Dad and Dani back to the town house to change into playclothes and swimsuits.

  When we were ready, Dani met us at the front door. “You guys going to be okay on your own?”

  We all looked at her, bewildered.

  “We managed Omega City,” Eric said. “I think we can handle Eureka Cove.”

  She raised her hands. “You have me there. Okay, you know how to work the cars. Remember, don’t leave any items in a vehicle when you leave, because it goes to where it’s called. If you need to call a new one, just look for the blue boxes on the light posts—they all have call buttons. A car will come pick you up. They come equipped with maps and phone directories. If you have any problems, you can use the box to call me or your dad and we’ll come get you. Remember, you can always buy food or rent equipment using your handprint.”

  The four of us climbed into the car.

  “Where to?” Savannah asked. “Should we give the smart courts another try?”

  “No,” Eric said. “Let’s get on the water. I want to see what kind of high-tech boats they have.”

  My brother and his one-track mind. “But you’re the only one who can sail.”

  “Okay, then let’s take out a motorboat,” Eric said. “Think those are self-driving, too?”

  “Yeah,” Savannah agreed. “We could go tubing or something. It’s so nice and warm out, we should check out the cove.”

  Howard pressed his hand against the panel.

  “Howard Noland,” said the car. “Please state your destination.”

  “Please take us to Eureka Cove,” he replied.

  The car didn’t move. “We are currently located at Guidant Technologies Eureka Cove Campus. Please state your destination.”

  We all looked at one another, helpless.

  After a minute, the car spoke again. “Would you like a list of popular destinations on the campus?”

  “Take us to the boats,” Eric tried.

  Nothing happened.

  “I don’t think you’re an authorized user,” Savannah said, gesturing to Howard.

  “Please take us to the boats?” Howard tried.

  “Would you like to travel to the docks and boat rentals on the Eureka Cove beach?” the car asked.

  “Yes!” we all exclaimed.

  The car, thankfully, responded by starting off.

  “I don’t really care what we do,” Howard said as we drove along, “as long as I can keep reading my book. I’m reading a chapter about radio stations they use to send spy messages and how difficult they are to decode.”

  “Radio presets on,” said the car, and a weather report began to play through the speaker. “Please choose a station.”

  “Ooh, make it play music!” Savannah said.

  “I don’t want to listen to music,” said Howard. “I want to read the chapter on the numbers stations.”

  The radio went static for a moment, and I watched the numbers on the digital preset roam up and down through the FM and then AM options, until they finally landed somewhere in the high thousands. A flat, computerized female voice began to speak.

  “Seventeen, thirty-five, fifteen, twenty-two, forty-one, fifteen, twelve . . .”

  Howard sat up straight in his seat. “It’s a numbers station!”

  The list of numbers went on like that for quite a while, and then stopped, replaced by these words:

  Twinkle, twinkle, little star,

  How I wonder what you are.

  Up above the world so high

  Like a diamond in the sky.

  8

  NURSERY RHYMES AND NANOTECH

  “CREEPY,” SAID SAVANNAH.

  My mouth dropped open. Creepy . . . and suspicious. “Weren’t we just talking about this song?”

  Howard whipped out his pad of paper and was scribbling furiously as the woman started reciting numbers again.

  “That’s it,” Savannah said. “I’m definitely controlling the car next time.”

  “Fifteen, forty-two, twenty-three, thirty-four, fourteen, fifty-one, fifteen . . .”

  For a moment, the sound cut off, and the car said, “Arriving at Eureka Cove Beach, boat and equipment rental.”

  Howard slumped in his seat. “I missed the rest.”

  Eric practically skipped down the docks toward the boats moored there, while Savannah and I started to follow him, but when I looked back, Howard was still sitting in the car, writing down numbers.

  “Fourteen,” said the creepy lady’s voice. “Twenty-one, thirteen, fifty-five, twenty-four, forty-two . . .”

  “You have arrived at your destination,” the car said. “Please exit the vehicle or pick a new destination.”

  “Shut up!” Howard snapped at the car. “I’m trying to listen.”

  I glanced at the others. Eric had already chosen a boat and had pressed his hand to the panel on the engine. He beckoned wildly to us.

  I walked back and stood by the open door. “Come on, Howard. We’re supposed to stick together.”

  “I want to get this down,” he said, head bent low over his paper. “I don’t care about tubing.”

  The woman on the radio kept saying numbers for another minute, and then:

  Hey, diddle, diddle, the cat and the fiddle,

  The cow jumped over the moon.

  The little dog laughed to see such sport,

  And the dish ran away with the spoon.

  After that, the station went silent.

  “Come on, Gills!” Eric called.

  Okay, that was weird. We waited another minute, but nothing more came through.

  “See?” I said to Howard. “The broadcast is over. Let’s go. We can listen again another time.”

  Reluctantly, Howard climbed out of the car, his book and notebook firmly clutched in his hands. As soon as the door closed behind him, the car zipped off, as if it had already been summoned to another location.

  “Do you think the boat has a radio?” Howard asked glumly as we headed down the dock.

  Savannah and Eric had already loaded up an inflatable tube and the necessary lines, and were strapping on their life jackets as we climbed aboard.

  “Life jackets, everyone,” Eric said as the boat instructed him to double-check the lines before engaging the motor.

  “Aye, aye, Captain.” I gave him a mock salute and strapped in. Howard bent over his notebook again as we pulled away from the docks. The summer sun beat down from a cloudless sky, turning the rippling water into a cascade of sparkles. The beach was a golden stretc
h of sand dotted with cabanas and umbrellas, and we could see families and kids playing in the surf. On a day like today, it was impossible to imagine that, far up in space, hurtling toward us on a fiery path, might be a giant rock that spelled out the destruction of all mankind.

  But I guess it was like Dani said: Et in Arcadia, ego.

  “Eureka Cove is a man-made lagoon partially formed from what used to be polluted wetlands,” the boat explained as we motored away from shore. “After Guidant Technologies bought this parcel of land, they engaged in a massive undertaking of environmental cleanup and reclamation. Now the Cove is a model of green engineering, and the adjoining wetlands is home to over two dozen threatened or endangered species.”

  “That’s so awesome,” Savannah said.

  “As elsewhere on Guidant Technologies’ Eureka Cove Campus, the cove is off-limits to gas-powered vehicles. This boat is fitted with a solar-powered battery and electric backup. It will automatically monitor battery levels and alert passengers when it is time to return to a charging station.”

  “I love the future.” Eric grinned. “Okay, who’s first in the tube?”

  “Gillian and me!” Savannah cried. She’d already stripped down to her bathing suit and was clipping her life jacket back on. “Come on, let’s go!”

  I pulled off my shorts and left my sandals in the bottom of the boat. “Are you sure you’re okay driving alone?” I asked my brother.

  “What do you mean, driving?” Eric replied. “Boat, we’d like to go tubing.”

  “Please utilize location clips on passengers’ life preservers,” said the boat. “The motor will automatically cut off if passengers are thrown from the tube. Speed overrides in place. Enter the water when ready.”

  The boat slowed to an idle, and we tossed the inflatable tube overboard. On top of the tube were a pair of magnetic monitors that attached by a cord to little clips. Those must be the location clips. Savannah and I hopped on the tube and attached the clips to our jackets. There was enough slack that we could still bounce around on the tube without pulling the magnets free, but if we fell off, we’d take them with us.