The Conspiracy Game: A Tully Harper Novel: A Tully Harper Novel (The Tully Harper Series Book 1)

by Adam Holt

  I guess that’s the first mistake I made—I didn’t bring a swimsuit for this operation. I put the car in “Park” and it started to descend to the water. A few alarms sounded. The car wouldn’t land on the water.

  “It won’t land!”

  “Try to surprise it!” yelled Sunjay. “Bring it back over land and then nosedive it in before it has time to think.”

  For a guy who didn’t want to destroy his dad’s car, Sunjay knew what to do. I put the car in reverse, aimed the nose at the center of the pond, and hit the accelerator. In a moment I went from seeing blue sky to seeing fish swim beside the windows. I checked my pocket. Sure enough, Little Bacon was there, holding on to my shirt, wondering what I was doing.

  “Hang on, LB. We’re about to get wet.” I took a deep breath, opened the sunroof, and water filled the car. Drenched, I swam for the surface. After that, I started to swim back to shore.

  Behind me, I heard a deep, rumbling sound, like a gasoline-powered engine roaring to life. It was an odd sound for a sinking hovercar to make. That’s because it wasn’t the sinking car.

  “Tully, swim faster!” yelled Tabitha, looking panicked. I heard the rumble behind me again.

  “Okay, gimme a minute. It’s not easy swimming in jeans.”

  “You don’t have a minute. Crocodile!”

  I looked behind me and sure enough, it was an...

  “—Alligator,” said Little Bacon. He had climbed from my shirt pocket to my shoulder to avoid the water. “Florida is one of the only places where both alligators and crocodiles coexist in the same habitat,” he explained calmly.

  “That’s not helpful!” I yelled between strokes. The alligator swam behind me with a hungry look in his eyes. I was so scared I almost forgot how to swim.

  “An alligator has a bite force of 3,000 pounds, three times stronger than a lion,” he continued.

  “Tully, you can’t die before we get on the ship! Swim for your life!” shouted Tabitha.

  I turned for the dock and did my best freestyle stroke, which isn’t very good. The alligator was still coming at me, but I was making good enough time and almost to the shore now.

  “Stars!” I shouted. “Throw something at him.”

  The alligator was about five feet from me as I got into the reeds at the edge of the water. I started bounding through reeds. This wouldn’t be so hard if I was taller! I heard him snap his jaws but didn’t turn around. I just kept running like a mad man and thinking, This thing will not eat me! I’m going into space!

  “Tully, watch out!” I didn’t turn around, but that was for the best, because the danger came from right in front of me. I ducked as a giant rock sailed over my head. Clunk! I hoped that was the sound of an alligator getting hit by a big rock. For once, I was glad I was short.

  I sprinted from the swampy water and tried to catch up with my friends. The three of us ran back to the parking lot before we turned around. Tabitha and Sunjay looked at me wide-eyed. I had to keep my cool, even though my heart was beating like a snare drum. This was no time for a freak out.

  “Well, I’m glad those swimming lessons paid off. Tabitha, are we on schedule?” I said between breaths.

  “If we hurry,” she said.

  “Thanks,” I said. “And good shot, Sunjay. Next time aim a LOT higher.”

  Tabitha smacked her gum and flipped her scarf. “Rock tossing, hover car wrecking craziness! No time for congratulations! We’re not on board and you’re not an orangutan yet, Tully Harper. Come on, you guys. We’re wasting time!”

  Step Two: Do the orangutan thing.

  I dried off quite a bit on the way to the hangar. Tabitha brushed the swamp weeds out of my hair. I looked almost normal.

  “We’re off to travel the universe with Queen Envy!” Sunjay yelled, excited and scared senseless at the same time.

  “Space Boy, take a deep breath,” said Tabitha. She turned toward me and hugged me. “Stars, Tully, you smell worse than my house! We’ll see you on board.”

  The enormous hangar loomed in front of us. They headed for The Adversity, and I walked toward the Space Alliance offices. It was just a few hours until the launch. A lot of people were leaving the hangar and headed down to the field toward the runway and bleachers. As most of the crowd left the hangar, I made my move. It’s time I met Scrubbles, I thought.

  Tabitha taught me two things: first, how to act mad and depressed around my dad. Second, she taught me some sign language, because that’s how Scrubbles communicated with people. I knew just enough to make the rest of our plan work.

  Scrubbles was with his manager, Corbin Belafonte. I found them in their dressing room on the second floor of the hangar. Corbin had agreed to let me play with Scrubbles for a few minutes before the flight. When Corbin came to the door, he wore a gold tuxedo shirt, camouflage pants, and purple sunglasses. So did Scrubbles. I flashed my VIP pass when he opened the door. He didn’t seem too thrilled to see me, but the famous Commander Harper had asked the favor for his one and only son. How could he refuse?

  Bubble’s spacesuit was thrown into a chair beside him. Scrubbles sat on the couch, and Corbin stood behind him, combing his hair one last time before he boarded the ship. Scrubbles seemed to be enjoying the attention as well as the sunlight coming in through the second floor window. He had stubby legs and freakishly long arms, but he was about my height, as I had hoped.

  “So Commander Harper’s son is here to see you, Scrubbles,” he said. “Give the lad a fist bump, dear.” Scrubbles and I awkwardly fist bumped. I’d never fist bumped an orangutan.

  “Isn’t he about to put on his spacesuit?” I said.

  “Oh, in a minute! My gosh! Scrubbles loves to have his hair combed. It relaxes him, and he’s been a wreck all day with all these photographers. Just look at him! Biting his fingernails, scratching his armpits. He hardly ate a thing this morning,” explained Corbin, looking frazzled. “I don’t know how he’ll survive in space without his Bong Bong.”

  “His what?”

  “Me, you fool!” he shouted. “I’m his Bong Bong.”

  “Uh, okay. Do you want some help, Bong Bong?” I said, reaching for a comb.

  “It’s Mr. Belafonte to you!” Corbin yanked back like I was trying to rob him. “No no no! No help! He simply freaks out when other people comb him. He’s so stressed right now,” he said and then yelled out the door to the photographers. “All of you, shut your filthy paparazzi faces! You are upsetting the talent!”

  Scrubbles didn’t seem to share any of “Bong Bong’s” worries though. He gazed out the window calmly, looking over his shoulder at me once in a while, and then at the comb. Corbin looked like he was on the caffeine high of a lifetime. I didn’t need the manager to freak out though. I needed Scrubbles to freak out in a big way. Soon.

  Bong Bong combed Scrubbles’ hair for several minutes. I asked him several questions: What would Scrubbles eat in space? How did he train? What would the ship’s doctor do if Scrubbles were sick? This last question made him stop combing “the talent.” “Listen, Commander Harper’s kid. I’m sure it was great for you to meet the talent, but I need to get him into his suit now. Could you go ahead and, uh, blast off ?” he said.

  “Yes, that is my plan,” I said, “but my dad, Commander Harper, said I could help you first. Could I, please?”

  Corbin wrinkled his nose and took a deep breath. He threw up his hand, “Look, kid, Scrubbles and Bong Bong need some time together, okay? He’s going into space and I can’t go with him and this has all been such a mess and….” Just then, the door flew open and a photographer poked his head in for a picture. Corbin jumped up and hurled a comb at him. “Away from here, you filthy paparazzi devil! If you open that door again I will end you! You will curse the day your mother bought you that worthless camera!” He went on and on with his execrations.

  In the meantime, I calmly opened the window behind him. Then I turned to Scrubbles and delivered the hand signals I had been practicing for the last several days.
>
  Scrubbles looked at me calmly until I gave him the first sign.

  “Fire,” I signed.

  He sat up straight and sniffed the air loudly. He looked out the window.

  At the second sign, he let out a loud screech and jumped on his couch, jerking his head frantically.

  “Lions,” I signed.

  I heard Corbin slam the door behind me. Time had run out. Scrubbles jumped into action when I gave him the full message.

  “Fire. Lions. Window. Pond. Go!” I signed and pointed to the window. Scrubbles leapt out the window into a tree. He ran for the woods.

  Corbin screamed. “Beautiful Scrubbles, nooo! What did you tell him, you smelly reprobate troll!” He grabbed me by the shoulder and pushed me aside.

  I hoped Scrubbles’ manager would pass out from the stress. That always happens in the movies, but that didn’t happen. I should have known. For a second, I thought I might need to knock him out. He pushed me out of the way and ran for the door. Just as he passed me, he tripped on the coffee table. Whack! His head hit the table with a thud, and he didn’t get up. I poked him to see if he was alive, and he seemed to be breathing. Well, I didn’t mean for that to happen, but I stuck with my plan. The orangutan was gone. I was in the room with an unconscious man and an orangutan-sized spacesuit—my ticket on board The Adversity.

  I could now become Scrubbles.

  I closed the window and pulled on the awkward space suit. It had long arms and short legs, but it fit well enough to move. The helmet had a gold visor that covered my face. I pulled it on and headed for the door. Bong Bong was still unconscious. The paparazzi devils met me in the hallway. I pointed into the room and they saw Scrubbles’ manager passed out on the floor. They started snapping pictures, but one of them finally said, “Someone get a doctor!” Half of the paparazzi ran into the room and the rest followed me as I waddled down the hall toward the hangar.

  The crowd of crazed photographers grew as I reached the main hangar. People applauded the space orangutan.

  “Look at the brave space monkey, dear! Here’s getting on board all by himself!”

  There was a set of stairs on the side of The Adversity and a door into the cargo hold. The crowd roared as I clattered up the stairs. I viewed the sea of cheering faces and took in the scene. For that moment, I looked like an orangutan but felt like a rock star. Sweet victory. “Scrubbles” saluted the crowd. That surprised them all. They saluted right back and cheered even more. With a few final waves, I made my way toward my orangutan cage, using the route that Sunjay suggested would be the fastest. After all that craziness with the car, the crocodile, and Bong Bong, I sat down and finally caught my breath.

  I couldn’t believe that our plan worked. I could only hope that the orangutan would be lost in the forest where we dumped Dr. C’s car. I hoped he was safe. I imagined that crocodile scaring him pretty good, but the orangutan would spend his time in the trees. He would watch for fire and lions for a few days, just long enough. After a few days, Corbin Belafonte would find Scrubbles, and we would come out of hiding and tell my dad we were aboard. In the meantime, I would pretend to be the orangutan while Sunjay and Tabitha were Queen Envy’s pink and purple spacesuits.

  In the midst of these thoughts my dad showed up to check on his living cargo. I expected that, but it still shocked me, seeing him in his flight suit standing in front of me. Sylvia Moreline accompanied him. She climbed into the cage with me and strapped me into a seat for takeoff.

  “Sylvia, that manager must have hit his head pretty hard,” my dad said. “Did he really say that Tully threw his orangutan out a window?”

  “That’s what he said. The poor guy,” Moreline looked at me, er, Scrubbles. She gave me the okay sign and I signed back that I was okay. “I will report back that the orangutan is fine,” she said. “We can check on him in a few hours when we are in zero gravity.”

  “My son attacking an orangutan?” said my dad. “Well, I’ll have something to tell Tully when I get back,” he said, shaking his head. He turned and left with Moreline. I could breath again.

  Everyone was now in place. I was safe behind bars. With any luck, my two friends were in Queen Envy’s spacesuits.

  Step Three: Send everyone on a wild goose chase.

  I had one final job—to send out the video we’d made as a distraction for our families…and the authorities. We didn’t think anyone would believe the story completely, but at least they wouldn’t think we were kidnapped or in serious danger. Whatever they thought, they would never guess we were in space.

  In the message, Sunjay, Tabitha, and I sat on the saggy, brown couch in Mission Control. I had memorized the script while I was writing it. It went like this.

  CAMPING SCRIPT

  Tabitha: “Hey, mom, dad, brothers, everyone. We don’t know how to tell you this, but, well, we got inspired to do something really cool and crazy these last few weeks, and Tully just doesn’t think he can go back to Alaska yet, so we are going camping for a week.“

  Tully: “I know you’re probably freaking out about this, but we’ll be fine. Aunt Selma taught me a lot of survival skills. I’m basically a professional woodcutter. And Dr. C…”

  Sunjay: “…Daddy, I’m soooo sorry about taking your car. If we damage it in any way, we will pay you back—”

  Tully: “—or maybe you have good insurance. Anyway, we’ll check in with you in a week. Just don’t start searching every park in Florida for us. We promise to be back by the beginning of school. You can ground us forever if you want, but this just had to be done. We’ll call you next week.”

  All three: “WE LOVE YOU!”

  The three of us waved at the camera.

  END OF SCRIPT.

  With any luck, people would see that message and start searching in Florida—on the highways, in the national parks, in hotels, in motels, everywhere. But no one would think to look for three misguided youths in space.

  My finger hovered over the “SEND” button for a second. I knew this would cause trouble back on Earth, but we had already come this far. There’s no going back after this one, but I won’t be left behind. I reminded myself of all the lonely nights in Alaska, all the missed dances and parties, all the times I wondered if my dad would make it home. And I remembered my dream, and that faint whisper that gave me the courage to do this: Go, and do not delay.

  It took a lot of nerve, but I was done delaying. I hit “SEND” and turned off the phone.

  At that moment, The Adversity’s engines came to life. They weren’t like an airplane or a hyperplane’s engines. The slow rumble made my teeth rattle like on a cold day in Middle of Nowhere. We turned onto the runway and picked up speed. I imagined the audience cheering outside. I pictured the takeoff from my dad’s point of view. He was seated on the Flight Deck ready for takeoff. He pushed in the throttle and pulled back on the stick. The rumble increased and the nose lifted first. Then the entire ship lifted into the air. He gave The Adversity more throttle, and the massive engines pushed everyone on board back into their seats. We ascended quickly through the thin clouds. The blue sky blackened. The horizon came into view, the curve of the Earth. The ship no longer rumbled with power but cruised with grace. We were almost in space.

  The plan had worked. This time I wasn’t left behind. I felt so satisfied, almost like I was floating in mid-air. All the troubles of getting on board were floating away. Then I realized what was happening: I was floating. Gravity was letting us go. We would be weightless soon. It was a beautiful sensation. I picked up my arm and watched it slowly fall back onto my leg. I shook my head and my hair didn’t fall back right away.

  What brought back the weighty feeling was something Tabitha had said weeks ago in Mission Control: “Getting into space isn’t the problem, Tully. It’s surviving once we get there.” No reason to worry about that right now, I thought. I pictured dad again on the Flight Deck. He knew what he was doing, and he would take care of the mission like he always did. After a few days we could come out
of hiding and watch the crew perform spacewalks to repair this space station, our unknown destination. Maybe we could even help my dad on his personal mission—to hide the Harper Device. That was my greatest hope. If he was going to face death and danger again, at least I wouldn’t be that helpless, little kid who thought he lost his only parent.

  How little I could see of the future at that time.

  PART THREE: THE CONSPIRACY GAME

  SAVING MY BACON

  I did a lot of wishing the first few days in space.

  I wished that Tabitha and Sunjay had hidden closer to me. I had no idea how they were doing. We couldn’t use phones—they could track our signals, and we wanted everyone to think we had run off in Dr. C’s car. It’s hard to leave your holophone behind, but sometimes it has to be done.

  I also wished for some entertainment. Tabitha had just finished those old Harry Potter books, and I meant to borrow one of them before we left. What I wouldn’t have done for a few books!

  We did each bring a few items: Tabitha brought her lucky scarf. Sunjay brought a picture for Queen Envy to sign. Since I was all alone in a cage, I brought Little Bacon and a sketchbook.

  I sketched the entire ship, from nose to tail, but I had to work from memory on most of it—at the front, the flight deck, the observation deck, and the crew members’ quarters. In the middle, the payload bay, which was pretty empty on this trip. Finally, the space lab, my home.

  The space lab was spacious and bright. The lights felt warm and looked like sunlight. That was probably intentional because there was plenty of life in the space lab. In the middle of the lab there was a garden. All sort of plants and grasses grew there—bamboo, tomatoes, different varieties of vines and fruits. Little Bacon knew all of their names and told me more than I ever wanted to know about each one of them. Next to the garden was a group of glass cases filled with green slimes and blue fuzzy fungi that grows on rotten vegetables and fruit, also known as bacterial experiments. Finally, there was a colony of mice that looked really nervous, bunching up and burrowing in their woodchips. They had reason to be nervous. Beside them was an owl that never stopped looking at them. He clung to his branch so he wouldn’t float around in his cage.