Nick and Tesla's Solar-Powered Showdown

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Nick and Tesla's Solar-Powered Showdown Page 10

by Bob Pflugfelder


  “Have an Oreo,” she snarled, her face an ominous scowl. “They’re the extra-creamy kind.”

  Tesla and the old woman glared at each other until Silas popped between them to fill his hands with cookies.

  “Oooo! Double Stuf!” he said. “My mom never buys these!”

  Tesla felt a hand on her shoulder, and she glanced behind to find her father backing her up gently.

  “You didn’t drag them out here for a picnic, Bob,” he said, his usually soft voice as steely as Tesla had ever heard it. “Cut out the small talk and get to the point.”

  Bob heaved a sigh and slumped a little lower in his seat. He looked like his feelings were genuinely hurt. “All right,” he said. “The point.”

  He focused his gaze on Nick, and his smile returned. The sight of it was so creepy that Mrs. Holt quickly stepped closer behind her son and draped her arms around his shoulders as if to protect him.

  “I know all about you, Nick,” Bob said. “You’re the reasonable one. The one who worries about being prudent. Staying safe.”

  Nick knew that was true but couldn’t help feel insulted. “Maybe,” he admitted reluctantly.

  “You want your country to be safe, right, Nick?” Bob asked.

  Nick shrugged. “I guess.”

  Bob’s smile broadened. “Then you should be glad you’re here. Because keeping your country safe is what this project is all about.”

  “I get the feeling my mom and dad wouldn’t agree with you about that,” Nick said.

  “Or the government,” said Tesla.

  “True,” Bob conceded. “There has been a little disagreement over how to use a certain piece of technology.”

  Tesla impatiently rolled her hands in the air. “Yeah, yeah—the space-based solar-power system. We know all about that.”

  “You do?” Mrs. Holt blurted out in surprise. Mr. Holt looked shocked, too.

  “We guessed it a while ago,” Nick said. “Once we knew that spies were chasing you, it became pretty obvious you guys weren’t really soybean experts.”

  “You’ve been lying to us our whole lives about what you do, haven’t you?” Tesla said. She stepped away from her father and turned to him accusingly. “I bet that’s even why you gave us our names. You were working on a wireless energy transmission system, and Nikola Tesla was the first scientist to seriously try to build one.”

  Over at their workstation, Silas leaned in and elbowed DeMarco in the ribs. “This is getting juicy,” he whispered, popping another cookie into his mouth.

  “Yes, honey, we did lie to you,” Mr. Holt said. “And I’m sorry about that. But the project had to stay completely secret.”

  “So you lied to your own kids?” Tesla said. “Didn’t tell them the truth about who you really are?”

  Nick moved away from his mother to stand next to Tesla. “You should have trusted us,” he said. “Who would we have told your secrets to, anyway? It’s not like we were having play dates with Russian spies.”

  Mr. and Mrs. Holt exchanged a sad, guilty look, then turned back to their children. “Kids,” their father said, “you’re the most important people in the world to us. We love you and trust you. But this was just too big for you to know about. You’re children.”

  Nick and Tesla stiffened.

  “We had to take every precaution to protect you,” Mrs. Holt added. “There was simply too much danger that the technology would be misused.”

  Bob interrupted by blowing a raspberry.

  “You know what would be a real misuse of that satellite?” he said. “Beaming free power to all the gimme-gimme moochers of the world.” He turned to Nick again and jerked his thumb at the boy’s parents. “That’s what those two wanted to do. When instead you could up the frequency of the beam the teeniest bit and have—”

  “A weapon,” Tesla cut in. “We already guessed that, too.”

  Bob shook his head. “Not a weapon. A proactive defense system.”

  “A weapon,” Tesla repeated.

  Bob continued to shake his head. “A proactive defense system.”

  “A weapon.”

  “A proactive defense system.”

  “Bob,” Mrs. Holt said, “your plan is to fry people from space.”

  Bob threw his hands up in the air. “Fine! A weapon! Weapon, weapon, WEAPON!” he roared, a string of spittle flying halfway across the room. He looked as if he might pop out of his seat and fly across the room, too. “Whatever! The point is, we’d have it and the other guys wouldn’t!”

  A moment of silence followed during which everyone else in the room—even Julie and Gladys and Ethel—stared at Bob warily while he wiped saliva from the front of his Hawaiian shirt.

  “Now that was almost over-the-top enough for ‘Sun King,’ ” Silas whispered to DeMarco through a mouthful of Oreos.

  Uncle Newt, who had been standing quietly next to his brother and taking everything in, now stepped forward and addressed Bob directly. “Who is this ‘we’? Who are these ‘other guys’?” His voice was quiet yet firm. “And—most important of all—who are you?”

  “He used to be our boss, Newt, before we started at the National Science Foundation,” said Mr. Holt.

  “That’s who we really work for,” Mrs. Holt said to Nick and Tesla. “Not the Department of Agriculture.”

  “We found out a few months ago that he and some of his cronies were planning to weaponize our work, in violation of government policy,” Mr. Holt added.

  Uncle Newt nodded at the bank of TV screens near Bob. “And international law,” he said. On the monitor that was tuned to a news network, the U.S. president could be seen standing at a podium speaking. Across the bottom of the screen were the words PRESIDENT ANSWERS QUESTIONS AS TREATY SIGNING NEARS.

  Bob rolled his eyes. “Government policy? International law? Who cares about those?”

  “See what we mean?” Mr. Holt said. “We went to the National Science Foundation’s inspector general with what we’d learned, and she brought in the FBI,” Mrs. Holt said. “But Bob got wind of the investigation and tried to have us kidnapped. That’s when we went on the run. It wasn’t supposed to be for long—just until Agent McIntyre could capture Bob and the others. But eventually we were captured instead. The conspiracy was bigger than we thought.”

  Silas snapped his fingers, sending cookie crumbs flying. “Agent Doyle!” he said, clearly pleased with himself for being able to follow the Holts’ story. “The traitor!”

  Bob sat up straight, his round face flushed suddenly. “Did you just call us … traitors?” he snarled.

  Mr. and Mrs. Holt, Ethel, Gladys, and Julie all froze, faces pale, eyes wide. They looked as if a tiger had just sauntered into the room, and they were hoping he’d saunter right out again if they stood stock still and stayed quiet.

  “Don’t use the T-word around Bob,” Mrs. Holt said to Silas.

  “What?” said Silas. “You mean ‘traitor’?”

  Mr. and Mrs. Holt winced.

  Bob hopped up out of his chair. “Who’s a traitor?” he barked at Silas.

  “Agent Doyle,” Silas said.

  “Oh, really?” Bob snapped back. “And who does Doyle work for?”

  “Uhh … you?”

  “Yes! That’s right! And if Doyle is a traitor, what does that make the man who controls him?”

  “Well …”

  DeMarco nudged Silas. “Don’t say it,” he said under his breath.

  “… I guess he’d be a …”

  “Don’t say it, Silas,” DeMarco hissed.

  “… a … T-word?” Silas finished.

  In that instant, Bob’s face changed from pink to nearly purple. He charged toward Silas and DeMarco and grabbed the Oreos piled on the electronic panel between them.

  “NO! COOKIES! FOR! YOU!” he bellowed, crushing the Oreos in his hands. “I AM NOT A T-WORD! I AM A P-WORD! A PATRIOT!”

  Bob pelted Silas and DeMarco with bits of crushed cookie and then, as the boys ducked under the workst
ation they’d been sitting at, stomped toward the TV screens.

  “You want to see traitors?” Bob roared. “These are the traitors!”

  Silas poked his head up and squinted at the screens. “The Simpsons?” he said.

  Bob screamed incoherently and stomped over to Gladys (or maybe it was Ethel) in search of more cookies to throw. He grabbed two fistfuls and spun around toward Silas.

  Tesla jumped between Bob and her friend, and Nick hurried over to stand by her side.

  “We get it, Bob! We get it!” Tesla said, putting up her hands.

  “The people in Washington are the … the you-know-whats,” said Nick.

  Bob glared at them a moment, panting heavily. Then he slammed the Oreos back onto the plate that Gladys/Ethel was holding. The old woman looked relieved that he didn’t throw them at her.

  “Oh, they’re you-know-whats, all right,” Bob said with a sneer. Slowly, with each wheezing breath, his flushed face faded to its previous pasty, pale complexion. “In two days,” he said, “they’re going to sign a treaty that would force us to give up the greatest edge we’ve ever had over our enemies … all in the name of peace and international goodwill.”

  Bob said “peace and international goodwill” the way some people would say “cockroaches and rats.” He dusted crumbs off his hands and then continued his rant.

  “I’m not going to let them do it. In orbit over this planet is a satellite that your parents helped design and build. An operational prototype for a space-based microwave-power transmitter.” The creepy smile slowly returned to Bob’s puffy face. “I’ve seen the demonstrations. I know what it’s capable of, and what it is capable of doing with just a few minor adjustments. Adjustments your parents have been dragging their feet to make. But now I’ve brought them a helper: a brilliant scientist who used to work for the Jet Propulsion Laboratory.”

  “No one from JPL would help you,” said Uncle Newt.

  “He means you, Newt,” Mr. Holt said, sighing.

  “Oh.” Uncle Newt folded his arms across his chest and stared at Bob defiantly. “Well, I won’t help you, either.”

  “Please, Dr. Holt. Think of the children,” Bob said.

  He stepped menacingly toward Nick and Tesla. Though they flinched at his approach, they managed to hold their ground.

  Bob slipped behind them and placed his arms around their shoulders.

  Mr. Holt stepped toward him, his face twisted with rage.

  Julie stopped him simply by clearing her throat and nodding at Ethel and Gladys.

  “Think about your niece and nephew’s future,” Bob was saying, “and what a shame it would be if they didn’t have one.”

  He gave Nick and Tesla a squeeze.

  Uncle Newt wasn’t confused this time. He knew exactly what Bob was saying—and that he meant it.

  “You win,” Uncle Newt said. “I’ll do whatever you ask.” Though he may have been giving in, Uncle Newt didn’t look defeated. On the contrary, his eyes were blazing with an indignation and contempt the likes of which Nick and Tesla had never seen.

  Bob seemed amused. “Good,” he said, grinning. “You can have all the cookies you want.”

  Nick and Tesla squirmed out of the man’s grasp.

  “Uncle Newt, you can’t!” said Tesla.

  “Mom, Dad—don’t help him!” said Nick. “He’s crazy!”

  Bob’s smile disappeared again. Apparently he didn’t like that word, either.

  “Family-reunion time’s over,” he said coldly. “Julie, show our young guests to their room. And be sure they know what will happen to them if they leave it.”

  Julie nodded and stepped out of the doorway.

  “Come on,” she said, jerking her head at the hallway outside. “Let’s go.”

  Silas and DeMarco trudged toward the door.

  Nick and Tesla started to follow but then simultaneously swerved to their parents and threw their arms around them.

  “Don’t worry,” Mr. Holt said reassuringly as he and his wife hugged them back. “Everything’s going to be all right.”

  “We know,” said Tesla.

  “We’ll get you out of this,” Nick said quietly.

  Mr. and Mrs. Holt both blinked at their children in surprise. These weren’t the same scared, confused kids they’d sent to live with their Uncle Newt. They had changed.

  Tesla squeezed her parents even harder. “We’re still mad at you, though,” she added.

  “That’s enough of that,” said Ethel (or was it Gladys?).

  “Break it up,” added Gladys (or was it Ethel?).

  The old women pulled the family apart and pushed Nick and Tesla toward the door.

  “All right—no more distractions, no more delays, no more excuses,” the kids heard Bob say as Julie marched them away. “I want my weapon!”

  Julie marched her prisoners through a series of long, gloomy hallways to a room at the back of the building. It appeared to have been used most recently as a workshop: scattered on old metal desks was an assortment of electronic equipment and circuit boards and tools. Through the single narrow window, the kids could see the base’s airfield and, beyond it, the flat expanse of desert.

  Long, deep shadows stretched away from the side of the building. The sun was beginning to set.

  Julie nodded at the window. “Do you know what’s out there?”

  “Nothing?” DeMarco guessed, squinting at the yellow featureless landscape outside.

  Julie shook her head. “Not quite. There’s thirty miles of wasteland in all directions. That’s something. And there’s sun and snakes and coyotes. That’s something, too. Which is why, if you go out there, we might not even bother coming after you. Because you’ll be toast within half a day without any help from us. Got it?”

  “Got it,” DeMarco said, nodding solemnly.

  Julie spun on her heel and strode out of the room, closing and locking the door behind her.

  The kids just stood rooted to the ground for a moment, listening as her footsteps faded away down the hall.

  “So,” DeMarco said when it was quiet again, “what’s the plan?”

  Nick and Tesla were already moving around the room, inspecting the tools and equipment.

  “We’re working on it,” Tesla said.

  Silas went to the window and started fiddling with a handle attached to the frame. At first it wouldn’t budge, but eventually he was able to turn it. He jerked on it, and with a rusty squeal, the bottom half of the window opened inward a few inches.

  “Hey!” Silas said. “I might be able to get this open far enough for us to climb out!”

  “And then what?” DeMarco said.

  Silas kept tugging on the window. It was open about half a foot now.

  “Then we steal the truck, ram into the side of the building, rescue the grown-ups, and escape.”

  “How do we get the keys?” Nick asked as he rummaged through a garbage can full of discarded wires, cables, and circuits (and popsicle sticks, juice bottles, and candy bar wrappers). “And how do we know where to ram into the building? And even if we can break through the wall, how do we know we won’t run over my mom and dad or Uncle Newt? And do any of us even know how to drive? And—”

  “All right, all right!” Silas said. “Maybe it’s not the best plan in the world! I’m just spitballing here, OK?”

  Tesla leaned over the bin Nick was looking through and fished out a flat black rectangle about the size of a playing card. Nick reached in and pulled out two more.

  Solar panels!

  “Bob must have had Mom and Dad in here working on something,” Tesla said. “If we can find the right piece of equipment in their leftovers—”

  “Like this maybe?” Nick said, lifting out two plastic bottles and tilting them to show off the lids.

  Tesla grinned.

  “Exactly like that,” she said.

  Silas and DeMarco turned to look at the trash their friends found so fascinating. “How is that junk gonna help us?” DeMar
co asked.

  “Maybe we can’t make it thirty miles through the desert to get help,” Nick said. “But what if someone else—”

  “Or something else,” Tesla added.

  “—did it for us?”

  NICK AND TESLA’S

  SOLAR-POWERED LONG-RANGE ROVER

  THE STUFF

  • 3-volt DC motor

  • 2 AA 1.5-volt rechargeable batteries and battery holder

  • A 1.5-watt solar panel

  • 2 popsicle sticks

  • 4 12-inch bamboo skewers

  • 4 large bottle caps (the kind on juice bottles)

  • A plastic deli-container lid

  • 3 NTE578 Schottky diodes

  • A nail

  • Cardboard scraps

  • 1 plastic straw

  • Wire cutters

  • A hot-glue gun

  • Double-sided tape

  • Scissors

  • A drill (optional)

  THE SETUP

  MAKE THE CAR FRAME

  1. Cut out 3 1-by-1.5-inch (2 by 3 cm) pieces of cardboard and glue them together in a stack. Glue 2 popsicle sticks on top, lengthwise, with equal lengths of the sticks sticking out on either side of the stack. Trim the straw to about the same length as the popsicle sticks and glue it on top.

  2. Trim the pointed ends off 2 skewers. Position them as shown here, forming a triangle, and glue the cut end of the straw on top of the skewers at the narrow end. Flip over the cardboard stack and glue the wide end of the skewers on top of the popsicle sticks.

  ATTACH THE WHEELS

  3. Using a nail or drill (and the help of a responsible adult, if you need it), make a hole as wide as a bamboo skewer in the center of each bottle cap.

  4. Cut a third skewer to a length about 5 inches (12.5 cm). It should be longer than the wide end of the car frame, with room on each end for the bottle cap wheels.

  5. Push the skewer into one of the bottle caps, with the open side of the cap facing inward. Glue the outside end of the skewer onto the wheel. Slip the skewer through the straw that’s under the wide end of the car frame and then glue the other wheel in place.

 

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