Six

by M. M. Vaughan

  In the end, realizing that they didn’t need to hide from Hilda anymore now that school was finished, the three of them left the tree house with the plan to go distract themselves and ride their bikes. Of course, the moment they stopped looking at the phone, it rang.

  Parker answered and, following the strict instructions that Michael had given him earlier, put the phone on loudspeaker. He also turned on Effie.

  “She’s got it,” said Solomon.

  “What?” said Parker.

  “She found the symbol I told her to look for—on a memory stick in the shipment. She managed to sneak it out, but she doesn’t know what’s on it. I’m sure it’ll be there though—it has to be. Can you meet her in an hour? Is that too short notice?”

  “No,” said Parker. It was Brendan’s day off, but he hoped they’d be able to get ahold of him. If not, they’d get a cab. One way or another, they’d be there.

  “She’ll meet you by the carousel at the mall—do you know what she means?”

  Parker knew exactly where that was—at the front of the mall. It was always surrounded by people.

  “I don’t think you should be the one to go though, Parker.”

  “I have to go! What do you mean?”

  “I have no idea if she’s being watched. Can Michael meet her instead?”

  Parker, though he hated the idea of not being involved, understood why Solomon was asking this. He looked over at Michael, who shrugged. “Sure.”

  Michael, thought Parker, seemed to be growing braver by the hour since this whole thing had started.

  “Good,” said Solomon. “She’ll be having a coffee at one of the tables by the carousel. Parker and Emma can tell you what she looks like. She’ll be there at six o’clock. She’ll wait if you’re late.”

  “We won’t be,” said Parker.

  “Call me when you’ve got it.”

  “We will,” said Parker. “Thank you.”

  “Of course,” said Solomon.

  * * * * * *

  Though it made sense that Michael would meet Lina, there was no way that Parker was going to be kept in the dark about what was going on at every step of the way. In that sense, it seemed he and Michael were much the same.

  “Make sure it’s working,” said Parker as he handed Michael the spare cell phone that Michael had found in his house. They were sitting in the mall parking lot—having easily convinced Brendan to skip out on sitting at home in favor of escorting them on the next part of the adventure.

  Michael took out the set of in-ear headphones from his pocket and connected them to the handset. He fitted the side with the microphone attached into his ear and called the phone Parker was holding in his hand. Parker answered on speakerphone.

  “Testing, testing, one, two, three,” said Michael into the microphone. His voice boomed out of the other cell phone, making Parker jump.

  “Definitely working,” he said, turning down the volume. “Make sure you don’t hang up.”

  “I won’t,” said Michael. He opened the passenger door and climbed out. “Back in a moment,” he said. His voice came out as an echo from Parker’s hand.

  Parker smiled. “Good luck. And, Michael?”

  Michael stopped halfway through closing the door. “Yes?”

  “Thank you.”

  Michael shrugged. “You’re welcome,” he said, and slammed the door closed.

  Brendan turned to Parker from the front seat. “I’m going to follow him. Just in case,” he said.

  Michael heard Brendan through his headphones. “I don’t need you to check on me.”

  “You won’t even know I’m there,” called out Brendan. He opened his door and turned back to Parker. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll lock the doors.”

  Parker nodded. As soon as the door closed, he unmuted Effie and turned to look at the cell phone as Michael began a running commentary.

  “I’m walking. . . . I’m walking up to the entrance . . . Still walking. I’m at the doors. I’m walking through the doors. . . .”

  “You don’t have to tell me everything,” whispered Parker, then realized he didn’t have to whisper. “Just make sure I can hear when you meet Lina.”

  “Oh . . . okay,” whispered Michael. He went silent, and the sound of his voice was replaced by the sounds of the busy mall. Parker and Emma waited. Then waited some more. Parker was regretting asking Michael to stop his commentary but decided not to say anything—he would hear when Michael met Lina; he just had to be patient.

  And then the phone went silent. Michael had hung up.

  Parker’s eyes widened as he stared at the phone.

  “What happened?” signed Emma.

  Panicked, Parker looked down at the phone and wondered whether ringing Michael might bring attention to the hidden cell phone at the wrong time. He decided to count to sixty and then try him. He got to twenty-five seconds before he lost patience.

  “I’m calling him back,” said Parker.

  He pressed redial and waited as the phone began to ring. Michael didn’t answer. Parker tried again and waited.

  Still no answer.

  He was about to press redial once more when the phone began to ring.

  “What happened?” asked Parker.

  “I was going to the bathroom,” whispered Michael. “I was desperate.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “You said you didn’t want me to tell you everything.”

  Parker sighed. “Fine. Tell me everything.”

  “I’m walking back out into the mall. . . . The carousel is in front of me. . . . There are about . . . hmmm . . . eight children on the carousel. There are approximately . . . fifty tables. I can’t see her yet. . . . I’m almost there. . . . I’m looking. . . .”

  Michael went silent.

  “I see her.”

  Parker looked at Emma and gave her a thumbs-up, then realized she was already listening to his thoughts. He didn’t normally forget Emma was on Effie, but she had been unusually quiet. She must be listening to him with it muted, he thought.

  “I am,” signed Emma.

  “Are you Lina?” asked Michael in a hushed voice. Parker snapped his attention back to the phone.

  “Hi,” said Lina’s voice. “Michael?”

  “Yes.”

  “It looks more suspicious if you stand with your back to me and whisper,” said Lina. “Come and sit down.”

  Parker listened as the sound of a chair being scraped across the floor filled the car.

  “How are Parker and Emma?” asked Lina.

  “They’re okay,” said Michael.

  “I’ve been so worried about them. . . .” Parker heard her gulp and realized that she was crying. “I didn’t know what to do.”

  “Are you okay?” asked Michael. Parker could hear the awkwardness in his voice.

  Lina sniffed. “Yes . . . I’m sorry. It’s just been such a relief to hear that they’re okay. I couldn’t find out anything.”

  “They’re fine,” said Michael. “They’re staying at my house.”

  Lina sniffed again. “I’m so glad. . . . I thought they were on their own.”

  Parker had no idea she cared about them that much.

  “How much did Solomon tell you?” asked Lina. She was whispering now, and Parker leaned in to hear.

  “Everything,” replied Michael.

  “Everything?” asked Lina.

  “Yes. The teleporting thing and that his dad is on another planet. Is it true?”

  “Yes,” said Lina. “Did he say anything else—about SIX? About who’s on SIX?”

  Michael paused.

  “The people who are working there,” said Parker. “Is that what she means?”

  Michael repeated the question to Lina.

  Lina paused.

  “Yes . . . yes, that’s what I mean. He’s not on his own. Tell them that.”

  “They know already,” said Michael.

  “Good. Here . . . the carrier bag is by your feet now. Solomo
n asked me to add some info on SIX for you too. I got the only thing I could find that wouldn’t go noticed if it went missing.”

  “Thanks,” said Michael.

  “Tell Parker and Emma that it’s all going to be okay.”

  Even at a distance Parker could hear the uncertainty in her voice.

  “You should go now,” said Lina. She sounded as if she were crying again.

  “Okay,” said Michael. “Bye.”

  * * * * * *

  Michael had already looked in the bag before he got in. He climbed inside, followed soon after by Brendan, and pulled out a plastic box.

  “What’s this?” Michael asked.

  “You’re joking, Michael, right?” said Brendan, peering through the divide between the front and back of the car. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

  Michael shrugged.

  “It’s a video,” said Parker. Brendan sighed in relief. “They used them in the olden times . . . instead of DVDs.”

  “Olden times!” said Brendan. “Watch your language!”

  “Sorry,” said Parker. “They used them a long time ago.”

  “That’s better,” muttered Brendan.

  “How are we supposed to watch it?”

  Emma smiled as Michael turned to Brendan.

  “Brendan? Can you play this?”

  Brendan shook his head. “Haven’t seen a VCR in years . . .” He looked at Parker with narrowed eyes. “Not since I was a young man . . . back in the olden times.”

  Emma nudged Parker.

  “It’s fine,” said Parker. “I’ve got one at home.”

  “You do?” asked Michael.

  “Yeah, I collect old machines and stuff.”

  “You’re not going back there,” said Brendan. “I’ll go.”

  “Really?”

  “Who else? It sounds like I’m the only other person apart from you who knows what a VCR is.”

  Parker gave small smile in apology. “Sorry.”

  “Ah, it’s all right, son. I was only joking. I’ll drop you off back at the house and you can give me your key.”

  “Thanks,” said Parker. He turned to Michael. “What else is in there?”

  Michael reached into the bag and pulled out a memory stick. It looked much like the one Anteater had given them—except this one had a picture of a diamond with a smiley face drawn in its center in Wite-Out.

  Michael shook the bag. “That’s all there is,” he said.

  “I’ll call Solomon,” said Parker as Brendan started the engine.

  * * * * * *

  While Brendan drove to Parker’s house to get the VCR, Parker, Michael, and Emma took the memory stick up to Michael’s room. Parker called Solomon again. He answered on the first ring. Parker turned on the speakerphone and laid it on the desk.

  “Are you at a computer now?” said Solomon.

  “Yes,” said Parker. “Michael’s just putting the memory stick in.”

  “Done,” said Michael. He sat down in his chair and clicked on the icon that appeared—a nondescript white square.

  Parker watched the window open, and a long list of numbered files appeared.

  “There are hundreds of files,” said Parker.

  “There will be,” replied Solomon. “Each one is the data for every person and object avected since the last report. Each of the files should be labeled with a very long number—is that right?”

  “Yes,” said Parker.

  “Good. Look for a file that ends in the number 1983.”

  Michael scrolled down the list. He and Parker spotted it at the same time.

  “Found it!” said Parker. His heart, he realized, was racing.

  “Found it?” asked Solomon. He sounded almost as surprised as Parker. “Open it up!”

  Michael was already a step ahead of him.

  “More numbers,” said Parker. “Pages of them,” he added as Michael kept scrolling down, looking for the end.

  “The numbers are broken up into sections—like paragraphs. Yes?” asked Solomon.

  “Yes,” said Parker.

  “Find the paragraph that starts with a comma. There should be commas separating all the numbers, but there should be only one paragraph that begins with a comma. It’ll be there somewhere.”

  “How do you know this?” said Parker as they all leaned in and checked each paragraph.

  “Encryption course I used to teach. Thought it might be useful for the kind of work many of my students went into—turns out I was right. This is one I devised—Gladstone Code—I used it to set the assignments to give my students practice. Any one of my students would know how to—”

  “Got it! It starts comma, fourteen, twelve—”

  “Stop—it can’t be done over the phone. Print it off,” said Solomon. “Each number corresponds to a letter. Write this down . . .”

  Parker grabbed a pen and a piece of paper that Michael handed him.

  “Write down the alphabet at the top of the page.”

  Parker did as he was told.

  “The letters in Gladstone are the first letters of the alphabet—so put the number one under the letter G, two under L, three under A, and so on. Are you writing this down?”

  “Yes,” said Parker.

  “Then go back to the beginning of the alphabet and continue from there. Put the numbers in sequence under each letter, from ten up to twenty-six. Skip the letters of my name, obviously. So B equals ten, C equals eleven, skip D and E, F equals twelve, and Z will be twenty-six.”

  Parker scribbled the numbers onto the page. “I’ve done it.”

  There was a pause. “Now you just have to work it out. If you see a zero on its own, ignore it. Double zero stands for a full stop. That’s it.”

  “I’ll call you back when I’ve worked it out,” said Parker.

  “Actually,” said Solomon, “if you don’t mind, I’ll wait. There’s not much going on here and I want to hear what he says.”

  “Okay,” said Parker.

  “Take your time,” said Solomon. “There’s no rush.”

  Michael walked over to the printer and brought back the sheet filled with numbers. Parker took it from Michael and placed it next to the code. He set to work.

  Parker had been so intent on deciphering the message that he didn’t stop to read the whole thing until he was finished. As his arm had been resting on the page as he wrote, neither Michael nor Emma had managed to look at it either. They all leaned in and, in silence, read the whole thing to themselves.

  “What does it say?” asked Solomon.

  Nobody replied.

  “Hello? Are you still there?”

  Emma and Parker were too shocked to speak, and it was left to Michael to answer.

  “Yes,” replied Michael. “We’re still here.”

  “What does it say?”

  Michael paused, as if waiting for Parker to jump in, but Parker said nothing. His eyes were just reading the same part of the message over and over again:

  NEED YOU TO SEND THEM TO ME. REPEAT.

  FIND WAY TO SEND P AND E TO ME HERE.

  “He wants you to send Parker and Emma to SIX,” said Michael finally.

  It was Solomon’s turn to go quiet.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Parker walked away from Michael and Emma, who looked as shell-shocked as he felt. He took a seat on the gray leather sofa in Michael’s room.

  Questions were pouring into his head so quickly that there was no time to formulate any answers—was he really going to be teleported? Would it hurt? What would SIX be like? Was it really another planet?

  Did he even want to go?

  Michael seemed to understand that Emma and Parker needed time to think. He didn’t say a word, and Parker barely registered the moment he left the room.

  His wrist buzzed.

  Do you think it’s true? asked Emma as soon as Parker answered.

  I don’t know.

  Do you really think Dad’s on a different planet?

  I don’
t know, Emma. I really don’t know.

  But teleporting—you really think that can happen?

  Emma’s questions echoed his own. It was too much.

  I can’t think, Emma. I need to think.

  He hung up the call.

  * * * * * *

  Parker had no idea how long Michael was gone from the room. However long it was, it wasn’t long enough. When Michael returned, Parker was no closer to answering any of his questions than he had been when Michael had left. If anything, he was even more confused.

  “Do you want to watch the video?” asked Michael quietly.

  Parker looked up and saw that Michael was holding a VCR—the one he had built himself. It was strange seeing something so familiar so out of context, and it only added to Parker’s sense of disquiet.

  Parker nodded. There was, however, no urgency as he stood and followed Michael and Emma up the stairs to the gallery. He sat down on one of the beanbag chairs—his mind so full and yet so empty—and waited as Michael hooked up the VCR and turned the television on. It was only when the screen came to life—white lines flickering against black—that his attention turned from his thoughts to the video playing.

  What do you think it’s going to be? asked Emma on Effie.

  Parker shrugged. I don’t know, he said. Let’s just watch.

  Don’t forget to repeat everything—I don’t want to miss anything.

  Okay, said Parker as bold white letters appeared across the screen.

  FOR AUTHORIZED VIEWING ONLY. PROPERTY OF AVECTO ENTERPRISES.

  The words dissolved into the black, and the film cut to an opening sequence of a chaotic street scene in Manhattan—traffic at a standstill, horns honking, and swarms of people dodging cars and stepping over litter on the sidewalks.

  “Imagine,” said a woman’s soothing voice, “a world without traffic jams.”

  The scene cut to a factory with black smoke pouring out of a tall chimney stack.

  “Imagine no pollution, no recessions, no wars, and no protests. Imagine no shortage of natural resources.”

  Parker watched the images of war victims, angry rioters, foreclosure signs, and closed-down gas stations flashing on the screen. He’d already heard enough about SIX to know where this was going.