The Falcon's Feather

by Trudi Trueit

  “We have another problem.” Brume was still talking. “Meerkat. I need you to handle him.”

  Meerkat? That was the code name for Malcolm Rook, the Academy librarian. Rook was supposed to have taken care of Cruz after Prescott had blown his chance, but he had failed, too. Following Rook’s arrest, Nebula’s attorneys had sprung him from jail and gotten him out of the country. Yet, now Brume wanted Meerkat out of the picture completely? Interesting.

  “I understand,” said Prescott, his eyes drifting to the ebony door. The eyeball was gone.

  Watching his boss spread orange marmalade over a triangle of toasted multigrain bread, it dawned on Prescott that Beijing was seven hours ahead of London. It wasn’t breakfast time there. It was three o’clock in the afternoon. He was beginning to understand. Brume wasn’t in China. Never had been. He might still be in London, maybe even peering at him from that bathroom 30 feet away.

  “Cobra!”

  “Sir?”

  The toast hovered. “Hawaii and Washington, D.C. That’s two strikes, you know.”

  Another tremor shook Prescott.

  He knew.

  CRUZ STARED at his reflection. In the lavender blue light of dawn, it seemed as if someone else was staring back. It was him, and yet it wasn’t.

  Standing in front of the full-length mirror attached to the inside of their closet door, his eyes slowly traveled down his angular jacket and pants, ending at a new pair of cream athletic shoes with gold stripes. He’d figured that any uniform that could become a flotation device or was packing a lightweight parachute in the back lining (or so the instructions claimed) was probably not going to be comfortable. He’d expected it to be heavy or itchy or stiff or all of those things, but it wasn’t. The shirt was like skin; he barely felt it. The jacket and pants were featherlight and stretched in every direction, their linings softer than fleece. Plus, everything fit perfectly.

  Cruz slipped Mell inside his lower-right jacket pocket. He stuck the honeycomb pin on his uniform next to the rectangular Explorer Academy communications pin. The tiny pin was a gift from Lani, a voice-command remote she had made for Mell. It was a going-away present. Lani hadn’t wanted Cruz to go to the Academy without her, but he had gone anyway. Only the best of friends would give you such a cool gift when you were leaving her behind. That was Lani. More recently, she’d made him a protective sleeve for his mom’s holo-journal. To the ordinary observer, the journal looked like a plain white piece of cardstock, but lay it flat on a surface and—watch out! First, the three-by-three-inch square emitted a security beam to scan and identify any human in its proximity. If it determined the human was not Cruz, it simply shut off. But if it did identify him, the page morphed into a three-dimensional orb that projected a holo-video of his mother, Petra. It was her digital journal that had sent Cruz on a global quest to find the pieces of her formula. After giving him his first clue, her holo-image had disappeared and the orb had returned to its former state—a plain, fragile white square of cardstock. Lani’s protective sleeve was made of a super-durable material; she didn’t say what it was but he couldn’t bend it, so it was probably some type of carbon fiber. Picking up the journal by its edges with a towel so he wouldn’t activate it, Cruz slipped it into Lani’s sturdy sleeve, then tucked that into the upper-left front pocket of his jacket. He was ready for his first day of classes.

  Emmett came out of the bathroom and stood next to Cruz. He looked at himself in the mirror, too. “We look fifteen,” he declared.

  “I do. You look fourteen, maybe,” snickered Cruz, which earned him a punch in the arm.

  Emmett sniffed the air. “I smell waffles.”

  “Before we go, we’d better…” Cruz motioned to their closet.

  Along with their uniforms, the explorers had been issued activewear, heavy-duty backpacks, hiking boots, and deck shoes. Each also got a thick polar coat. Of all their new clothes, it was Cruz’s favorite. Not only did the hooded coat keep your body temperature at a toasty 98.6 degrees in the cold weather, but it was reversible, too. One side was gray camouflage, while the other was more of a solid silvery color. The silver side might have looked a bit plain, but it had a special feature. Hit the top collar button and it glowed in the dark! Another one of Fanchon and Sidril’s creations, the tech gurus had nicknamed it the hide-and-seek jacket. As Fanchon had explained, “You’ve got camouflage to hide and bioluminescent light to be seen!”

  Not having time to organize all of their new gear, Emmett and Cruz had crammed everything into the closet they shared. It was a mess.

  “We could leave it open,” suggested Emmett.

  “If Taryn sees it…”

  “Come on.” They shoved their backs against the pair of doors to get them to latch.

  “Good thing they’re keeping all our diving gear below.” Emmett gritted his teeth.

  Cruz dug in his heels. “Let’s hope they don’t issue us any more stuff.”

  “One more push and I think we’ve got it.”

  They gave it a good heave and heard both doors catch.

  “We’ll reorganize after dinner,” huffed Cruz.

  “I thought we were going to get started on the next clue to your mom’s formula.”

  “We’ve got time. I told Sailor to meet us here at nine.”

  “Nine? That only gives us a half hour until lights-out.”

  “I know, but Lani’s six hours behind us in Hawaii and I promised we wouldn’t do any detective work without her.”

  In the passage, Cruz and Emmett met the same female security guard they’d seen yesterday. This time, however, Officer Dover was posted halfway between their cabin and the elevator. She was getting closer!

  “Good morning,” she said.

  “Hi,” said Cruz, scurrying past.

  As they entered the atrium, Cruz was wondering if Aunt Marisol had anything to do with the guard’s new position, when who should come floating down the port side of the grand staircase? Instead of her usual brightly colored clothes and high heels, Aunt Marisol was wearing a long-sleeved white dress shirt, khaki crop pants, and blue deck shoes without socks. Her long, dark chocolate brown hair was pulled back into a low ponytail.

  “Awww, look at the two of you in your uniforms,” she gushed, though she never took her gaze off Cruz.

  Watching her eyes fill with pride, Cruz felt a warmth go through him. Emmett was grinning big-time.

  Aunt Marisol bent toward him. “Cruz, can I talk to you for a minute? It’s important.”

  “Sure. Go on ahead,” Cruz instructed Emmett. “I’ll catch up.”

  “Okay, but I can’t promise there will be any waffles left when you do.” Emmett took the stairs two at a time.

  Hooking her arm through his elbow, Aunt Marisol led Cruz across the atrium toward the faculty passage. “I just talked to Captain Iskandar,” she whispered. “He said you hadn’t come by the bridge to put your…uh…valuables in the ship’s safe.” By “valuables” she meant his mom’s journal and the first piece of the cipher. “Did you forget?” she pressed.

  “No.”

  “Do you want me to take care of it for you?”

  “No. I’ve…uh…decided I’m not going to put them in the safe after all.”

  She stopped. “Why not?”

  “I thought I’d…keep them with me.”

  “With you? Are you kidding?” When he shook his head, she hissed, “Cruz, that’s a bad idea.”

  “You don’t think I can handle it?”

  “It’s not that,” she said, but her flashing eyes made it clear it was that. “A million things could happen to them in your possession. What if you lose them?”

  “I won’t.”

  “What if someone steals them?”

  “They won’t.”

  “What if you fall into a stream or forget them in your pocket when you send your pants to the laun
dry or leave your jacket on shore—”

  “I won’t!”

  “Cruz!”

  “A million things could happen if I don’t have them with me.” He matched her fire with his own. “What if I need to check a clue in the journal? Or find the next piece of the formula? In her journal, Mom told me to show her each piece so she could confirm it was genuine. Only then can I unlock the next clue. That means I’ll have to come all the way back to the ship and get the captain to open the safe for me. I have to have it with me. Besides,” he rushed on as Aunt Marisol opened her mouth to argue, “how do we know the safe is really, you know, safe? Do you know the combination?”

  “Well, no, but I’m sure Captain Iskandar would never—”

  “I thought Mr. Rook would never, either. Look how that turned out.”

  Her gaze dropped to his arm. “I know you want to protect your mom’s work, but you can’t do it alone. There are people here who want to help. You need to trust them.”

  “I trust you.” He stood taller. “And Emmett and Sailor. Nobody else.”

  “So that’s it, then? Your mind is made up? You won’t consider using the ship’s safe.”

  “I’ll…consider it,” he lied. Cruz didn’t want to seem inflexible. And he didn’t want her to be mad at him.

  “Maybe you should talk to your dad about it? See what he thinks?”

  “Okay.” Another lie. Cruz didn’t know why he said it, except second lies are always easier than first ones.

  “Go get something to eat.” She spun him toward the stairs. “I’ll see you in class.”

  He spun back. “Aunt Marisol?”

  “What?”

  He gave her the softest, widest doe eyes he had. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too, Cruz Sebastian Coronado, but all the sweet words in the world won’t help you if you lose—”

  “I won’t.”

  Cruz may have lied when he said he’d consider placing the journal and cipher in the ship’s safe, but he had told the truth about why he wanted to keep the items close to him. It was important to be able to access them at a moment’s notice. Yet there was more to it than that. He didn’t know how to explain it. His aunt would probably think it was silly, but Cruz needed the stone. When he sat quietly in the bubbled observation deck watching the sun slip from the horizon, he needed to slide his thumb across the engraved equations. When he hiked up a mountain trail through a thicket of snow-flocked trees, he needed to feel the rhythm of it bumping against him like a second heart. And as Cruz uncovered the other pieces, he knew he would need them, too. Every. Single. One. They were his only—his last—connection to his mother. Once he’d found all the fragments and the formula was complete, he knew what was likely to happen. His mother’s prerecorded digital journal would instruct him to turn them over to the Society and his mission would end. There would be nothing to keep them together. He would continue on and his mom would evaporate from his life forever. Was it so wrong to want to hold on to her for as long as possible?

  “Cruz?” Zane Patrick was looking at him oddly.

  Cruz glanced around. He was at the end of the passage on the third deck. He’d gone past the galley, the conference room, the faculty offices, and the classrooms, with no recollection of doing so.

  “You okay?” asked his friend.

  Cruz’s hand flew to his chest. The stone was there. Safe and sound. “Uh…yeah. I’m good.”

  * * *

  DR. BRENT GABRIEL welcomed Cruz to Manatee classroom with a wide grin. “I’m sure glad to see you.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I’d like to apologize…about everything that happened.” The conservation professor lowered his voice. “When I heard the CAVE training software had been compromised and the hack had been traced back to your tablet, I…I didn’t want to believe it. But it seemed so cut-and-dried. I am truly sorry. I should have pressed for a more thorough review.”

  “It’s okay.” Cruz was trying to put it all behind him.

  “And then to have to endure that whole ordeal with Rook…”

  To protect Cruz, Dr. Hightower had not revealed to anyone the full truth behind Malcolm Rook’s attack on Cruz and his father. Instead, she’d told the students and staff of the Academy that the librarian’s actions had been caused by stress and that he was now receiving counseling.

  “Well, after that nightmare, no one would have blamed you if you’d wanted to get as far away from the Academy as possible,” finished Dr. Gabriel. He was buffing the back of his bald head with his fist the way he always did when something bothered him.

  “Not a chance,” replied Cruz.

  “That’s the spirit.” Professor Gabriel backed away. “Oh, and don’t forget to see me after class for your makeup work.”

  “M-makeup work?”

  “You missed three assignments and a test on global water issues.”

  “But I was unfairly expelled. And injured, too!”

  “Which is why I’m giving you an extra week to do the work.”

  “But—”

  “You need to know the material. I have complete faith that you’ll rise to the challenge.”

  That wasn’t fair. How was Cruz supposed to argue with praise? Unfortunately, his other teachers also expected him to do the work he’d missed. Even Aunt Marisol had him reading 50 pages in preparation for a quiz tomorrow on basic archaeological terms. Tomorrow! Cruz wanted to run up to Dugan and say, “See? I am not getting any special treatment!” But of course he didn’t. By the time their journalism professor, Dr. Kira Benedict, dismissed the last class of the day, Cruz felt like he’d been hit by a homework avalanche. He was buried up to his neck in reading, projects, essays, assignments, and test prep.

  On their way out of Manatee classroom, Cruz turned to Emmett.

  “Do you mind waiting to reorganize our closet? I thought I’d go to the library and try to catch up on all the work I missed last week.”

  “No problem. I’ve got plenty to keep me busy with Lumagine.”

  Orion’s library was on the fifth and top deck of the ship, between the bridge and the observation deck. It wasn’t as grand as the library back at Academy headquarters. No towering rotunda painted like the night sky, life-size bronze statues of famous explorers, or acres of shelves. Yet the two-story mahogany-paneled room with a curved staircase was elegant in its own way. The bookcases were built into the walls. Each case was lit from within and had a set of double glass accordion doors—to keep the books in place when the seas got a bit rough, Cruz figured. Along the starboard wall, bronze fan-shaped sconces and plump navy chairs invited readers to settle in next to the windows. Navy drapes had been swept aside by gold tassels to let in the afternoon light.

  As Cruz tried to decide where to sit, a woman poked her head around a mahogany pole. A wave of black hair swung over her shoulder. Coral lips slid upward. “Hi, Cruz.” Her blood-red cat-eye glasses sat slightly tilted on a freckled nose.

  “Hi, Dr. Holland,” he said shyly. Back at the Academy, Dr. Holland had been the assistant librarian. She had worked alongside Mr. Rook. However, she did not know the truth about him. Cruz hoped Dr. Holland didn’t hold it against him that her friend and colleague was no longer working at the Academy.

  “First time using the ship’s library?” asked Dr. Holland.

  Cruz nodded. He’d peeked in on the tour, but that was it.

  “We have more than a thousand titles on board to check out, as well as digital access to pretty much any book in print. You’re welcome to use one of our e-readers or have the book uploaded to your tablet. We also have full Wi-Fi, document-size printers, and tabletop computers to view maps. In other words”—her smiling green eyes glanced up—“you have the world at your fingertips.”

  Cruz followed her gaze. A giant glass map covered the entire oval ceiling! Lit from a skylight above, the planet’s
continents, islands, and oceans glowed. The sea currents looked as if they were really in motion! Tipping his head all the way back, Cruz did a slow circle.

  “I’ll let you settle in,” said the librarian.

  Cruz chose a chair by the window and spent the next several hours trying to focus on homework and not stare up at the cool backlit ceiling map. He was almost done with Aunt Marisol’s reading assignment on absolute and relative archaeological dating methods, when his nose began to twitch. Cheese. He smelled warm cheese. His stomach gurgled in confirmation. Emmett was in the doorway, holding a grilled cheese sandwich. His roommate held up the plate, indicating it was meant for Cruz. The clock on Cruz’s tablet read 20 minutes to seven. The galley closed at 6:30. He had worked right through dinner! Quickly packing up, Cruz made a beeline for the sandwich and the friend who was kind enough to bring it.

  Cruz reached for the brown triangle. “I’m starving.”

  “I figured. I got to the galley just in time. I’ve got another surprise.”

  The first thought that popped into Cruz’s mind was chocolate cake, but Emmett’s other hand was empty. Shoot!

  “It’s back in our room.” Pink dots were rapidly chasing turquoise streaks in Emmett’s circular frames. If Emmett was this excited, maybe it was better than cake!

  They headed down three decks to their passage on the atrium level. Cruz was already into the second half of his sandwich when they passed Officer Dover in the hall. Emmett held his OS band up to the security camera in front of cabin 202. The lock unlatched, and the door swung open. Cruz froze mid-bite.

  It looked as if a hurricane had struck their room!

  SEEING their cabin turned upside down was not the surprise Cruz had expected. And by the look on Emmett’s face, it wasn’t the one he’d planned. Every drawer had been ripped from its dresser, desk, or nightstand, its contents dumped on the floor. Shirts, jackets, pants, jeans, socks, and shoes were strewn everywhere. The beds had been stripped, chairs overturned. Like the first snow of winter, a thin layer of white covered everything. It took Cruz a moment to identify the coating. Carefully navigating the mess, he found what was left of his pillow between one of the stuffed chair cushions and the wall. The violent slash marks that shredded his pillowcase sent a shudder through him.