A lot more than a mile, Nick almost answered. But he stayed silent. He was still trying to be more upbeat, after all. “Who knows?” he said instead. Which wasn’t exactly upbeat but wasn’t necessarily downbeat, either.
“I bet it’s a lot more than a mile,” DeMarco muttered.
Boy, Nick thought, he’s been hanging out with me too much.
“I keep telling you guys to chill out,” Tesla said. “We’ve sent for help. All we have to worry about now is trying not to die of boredom while we wait for it to arrive.”
Suddenly, they heard a squealing gurgle, and an embarrassed Silas slapped his hands over his belly. “And starving,” he said.
“Hey,” said DeMarco, turning toward the door. All the other kids heard the noise, too: footsteps in the hallway. The door swung open, too quickly for them to stash anything … though fortunately, with the rover out on the road, they no longer had anything they needed to hide.
“Good morning!” Tesla said cheerfully.
Julie Casserly smirked back from the doorway, with an equally smirky Ethel and Gladys right behind her. “Bob’s throwing a pizza party,” Julie said. She swept out her arm, inviting the kids to join her in the hall. “And you’re invited.”
“Pizza party? Woo-hoo!” said Silas. “Guess we won’t be starving!”
“Or dying of boredom,” said DeMarco.
The two boys left the room, followed by Tesla. Nick was the last to go. The women’s sneering grins sent a chill down his spine.
If they’ve got reason to smile, the not-so-upbeat part of Nick couldn’t help thinking, we’ve got reason to frown …
Julie led the way through the building while Ethel and Gladys brought up the rear, making sure the kids followed. The hallways looked familiar, and it soon became clear why.
Bob’s “pizza party” was taking place in the same musty old control room where they’d met him the day before. When Julie led her prisoners inside, they found Bob already there, along with Mr. and Mrs. Holt, Uncle Newt, and a tall, lean, gray-haired man in a black suit. Agent Doyle.
“Hello, children,” Agent Doyle said with a smile.
None of the kids smiled back. They just stared (or, in the case of Nick and Tesla, glared) back at him.
“Now, now. Don’t be like that to good ol’ Doyle,” Bob admonished them. He was wearing a different Hawaiian shirt—this one had parrots and palm trees printed on it. “He brought the pizza!”
Bob waved a hand at a flat, square box sitting atop one of the workstations nearby. Printed on the top flap was a cartoon of a stout, mustachioed chef taking a pizza out of an oven.
“Sorry, guys—I’m hungry,” Silas said as he rushed toward the box. He flipped up the lid, revealing a half-eaten pepperoni and black olive pizza beneath. Silas pulled off a slice and stuffed two-thirds of it into his mouth.
“You should all eat,” said Nick and Tesla’s father, “before Bob changes his mind and—”
“Tut-tut, Albert!” Bob snapped. “I told you once already: this is my pizza party with my rules. You three will keep your mouths closed …except to eat pizza.”
“Oh, shut up, Bob,” Mrs. Holt shot back.
She and her husband were sitting at one of the workstations in the corner, with Uncle Newt standing beside them.
Mrs. Holt stood and walked toward the kids.
“Sit down, Martha,” Bob said.
Mrs. Holt hugged Nick and Tesla and kissed the tops of their heads.
Nick hugged her back.
“Geez, Mom,” Tesla protested under her breath. “Not in front of the bad guys.”
“Sit down, Martha,” Bob repeated more harshly.
“You’ve kept us from our children for weeks,” Mr. Holt snapped at him. “The least you can do is let their mother say good morning.”
Bob’s face began to turn pepperoni-red.
“My pizza party, my rules!” he barked. “Now get back to your seat before I put you there by force!”
Mrs. Holt shot her former boss a withering look. But after giving Nick and Tesla another quick hug, she did as she was told.
Uncle Newt glowered at Bob as Martha Holt returned to her workstation. Tesla had never seen her uncle look as if he wanted to punch someone, but he sure looked like he wanted to take a swing at Bob.
If Bob noticed, he didn’t care. He turned and flashed a grin at Nick and Tesla and DeMarco, the color already leaving his cheeks.
“Please,” he said, gesturing again at the pizza, “help yourselves.”
When the kids didn’t move immediately, the sentiment behind his smile soured and his expression turned scornful.
“You do not want to ruin my pizza party,” Bob hissed at them.
“Come on, guys,” Tesla said, starting toward the pizza.
“Some party,” DeMarco muttered as he followed her.
Silas was already starting on his second slice when the other kids joined him. Tesla picked up a piece, even though Bob’s insanity had ruined her appetite. She wasn’t interested in eating any pizza. But she did want to judge how old it was.
If Agent Doyle had arrived the night before, he might have driven up to the base before Nick snuck outside. Which would mean the solar-powered car was safe. And even if he had shown up after Nick went out to the road, he might not have noticed the rover in the dark. But if he’d just arrived at the base that morning, in the full light of day, there was no way he could have missed it.
Tesla took a bite of the pizza. It was room temperature. The crust was hard, the cheese ungooey, the sauce congealed.
This pizza was not fresh.
Tesla considered this data point furiously. It was midmorning, and they were in the middle of nowhere. It’s not like an open Domino’s was right across the road. The pizza was bound to be old and stale.
But how old was it? Late last night old? Early this morning old? When and where had Agent Doyle bought it? And when did he bring it to—?
Tesla froze midthought. Midchew, even. For a long moment she stood there, her mouth full of half-chewed stale pizza, staring at a TV screen that had caught her attention.
Nick noticed and followed his sister’s gaze. “What’s the matter, Tez?” he whispered. “Is something—oh.”
He didn’t even bother finishing his question. He didn’t need to. Nick recognized what was on the monitor, and it gave him his answer:
A small, dark, boxy object was moving along a gray strip that cut through a sparse yellow landscape. The image was taken from above, as if the camera were high up in a hot-air balloon.
Or a satellite.
Nick and Tesla were looking down on their solar rover as it rolled slowly and steadily along the road.
“Amazing picture, isn’t it?” said Bob, beaming with pride. “The satellite’s a hundred and fifty miles above us, and still it could find your little contraption practically the moment the sun came up.”
Silas and DeMarco looked up from eating. “What’s he talking about?” DeMarco asked.
Nick pointed at the monitor on the other side of the room. “The solar rover,” he said. They know about it.”
“Know about it?” Bob chuckled. “I wanted you to build it! We’ve dealt with you kids before, remember? I know how good you are with gadgets. So I made sure we left you exactly what you’d need to whip up some kind of solar-powered model car.”
Tesla was tempted to spit out the chewy, tasteless pizza, but she forced herself to swallow it instead. “Why?” she asked, tossing the rest of her slice back into the box.
“Target practice!” Bob said gleefully. He turned to Mr. and Mrs. Holt and Uncle Newt. “The satellite’s locked on,” he told them. “Show me what it can do … or I’ll have Agent Doyle take four new targets into the desert.”
Just in case they didn’t understand what he was implying, Bob jerked his head at the kids.
Mr. and Mrs. Holt looked at each other and then at Uncle Newt. They didn’t speak or nod or shrug or shake their heads. Everything they needed
to say to each other was communicated by the haunted, trapped looks on their faces. Then each of the three scientists turned to the nearest control panels and began pressing buttons and typing instructions.
“Hoo, boy! Here we go!” Bob said. He clapped his hands and bounced on the balls of his feet, giggling with delight. “Finally, finally, finally!”
Nick and Tesla also shared a silent look, as their parents and uncle had. Only theirs communicated one thing: this guy is nuts.
“Keep your eyes on the screen, everybody!” Bob said. “This is a historic moment!” And then his enthusiasm dimmed a tiny bit. “Or should that be an historic moment?” he mused. “Oh, well, whatever. This is big!”
Bob went back to bouncing and clapping. For a while. But when half a minute passed and nothing changed on the screen, his bounces grew less bouncy, and his clapping all but stopped.
“Where is it?” he said. “Where is my outer-space death ray?”
Uncle Newt looked up from his keyboard to scowl at the man contemptuously. “It’s there,” he said. “Microwaves are invisible, remember?”
“But I don’t see any … a-ha!”
Bob began bouncing and clapping again.
Tufts of smoke were beginning to trail away from the boxy object at the center of the monitor screen. The smoke started off wispy and gray but grew thicker and darker with each passing second.
Then the smoke stopped. And so did the rover.
“Is that it?” Julie asked. “Isn’t it going to explode?”
“Why would it explode?” asked Uncle Newt.
Julie flapped a hand at the screen. “You know … outer-space death ray.”
Mrs. Holt shook her head and sighed. “It’s not an outer-space death ray. It’s just a power transmitter.”
“I beg to differ, Doctor!” Bob trilled in a singsongy tone. He looked as if he was about to jump up and click his heels. “That gadget your kids built is most definitely dead … and you killed it. Congratulations!”
Uncle Newt and Mr. and Mrs. Holt looked thoroughly miserable.
“Now it’s time to get ready for our first real target,” Bob continued.
He walked over to the wall of blank TV screens and turned one on. It was the one that had been tuned to the cable news channel the day before. The news channel came back on. The sound was muted, but it was obvious that the reporters were still talking about the same topic.
A woman was waving to a crowd as she stepped out of a limousine. Under her were the words DIGNITARIES ARRIVE FOR “STAR WARS” SUMMIT.
“The weakling-in-chief is going to be signing the space weapons ban tomorrow in the White House Rose Garden at nine-thirty a.m. Eastern Time,” Bob said. “And that’s when we’ll show the world what happens to anyone who sells out or threatens the U. S. of A.”
“What are you saying?” DeMarco asked. “You’re gonna fry the president?”
Bob shook his head. “Oh, no, no, no, no, no. Haven’t you been paying attention? We’re not going to fry the president. We’d need hot oil for that. We’re going to microwave the president. Like a bag of popcorn. And then we’re going to microwave even more people!”
Agent Doyle and Julie Casserly noticed the looks of horror that the Holts and Uncle Newt and the kids were giving Bob.
“Only bad people, of course,” said Agent Doyle.
“Bob’s been working on a list,” said Julie Casserly.
Bob smiled. “It’s getting pretty long.”
“Haven’t you ever seen a James Bond movie?” Silas said to Bob. “News flash, dude: You’re not the good guy. You’re the crazy villain.”
“You know what? I love James Bond movies,” Bob said. “And I happen to think 007 would be on our side.” Bob walked over to the pizza box and picked up a slice. With one hand, he brought it to his mouth to take a big bite. With the other, he slammed the box closed.
“Pizza party’s over,” he announced as he chewed. “Julie, take our little friends back to their playroom. We’ll need them up before the sun tomorrow so that Dr. Holt, Dr. Holt, and Dr. Holt are all properly motivated to do as they’re told.”
He whirled toward Nick and Tesla’s parents and their uncle.
“And no tearful farewells! No kisses! No hugs!” he said. “You’ll have plenty of time for that once the Rose Garden is a smoking hole!”
“All right, boys and girl,” Julie said to the kids. She’d been standing in the doorway, but now she stepped aside and gestured toward the hallway beyond. “Let’s go.”
“See you tomorrow!” Agent Doyle called out cheerfully, in a way that made Tesla want to kick him in the shin.
As they filed out of the room, both Nick and Tesla kept their eyes on their parents and Uncle Newt. They were looking for a signal, a sign, a reason to hope. Their mother mouthing “We have a plan,” maybe. Or their uncle blinking out THE ESCAPE IS AT MIDNIGHT in Morse code. Or even their father simply giving them a “Don’t worry” wink.
Yet the adults just stared back at them silently, their eyes full of fear.
If Nick and Tesla wanted a reason to hope, it seemed they’d have to find it themselves.
“Do you really think that Bob guy makes any sense?” DeMarco asked Julie as she marched the kids down the hall. “The president won’t let you use the satellite as a weapon, so you’ll use it as a weapon on the president?”
“Bob is a great man,” Julie said, staring straight ahead.
“Seems kind of traitor-y to me,” Silas grumbled.
DeMarco looked over his shoulder at Ethel and Gladys. “How about you two? You don’t think Bob’s cuckoo bananas?”
They ignored him, so DeMarco turned back to Julie.
“What about that list of ‘bad people’ Bob’s working on? Who’s gonna be on it?” he said. “Can you really trust someone who gets that excited about having his own quote-unquote outer-space death ray?”
“Bob is a great man,” Julie repeated robotically.
“You keep saying that. But he doesn’t look so great to me,” DeMarco said. “I mean, do great men wear Hawaiian shirts?”
Julie finally looked at DeMarco, her brow furrowed. She seemed to be considering his question.
She thought for a long moment before giving him her answer.
“Shut up, kid.”
“Here again,” Silas said once Julie and the old ladies locked them back into the junk-filled office they’d spent the night in. “And I’m still hungry.”
“We don’t have to be here for long,” said DeMarco. “As soon as it’s dark, we can make a break for it.”
Silas pointed to the windows along the far wall.
“You can, maybe. But I’m too big to get out that way.” he said. “And anyway, where would we go? We’re still in the middle of a desert.”
DeMarco crossed his arms over his chest. “Better to die of thirst or be torn apart by coyotes than stay here and …” His voice trailed off as his own words sank in. Then he slumped down onto a cushion on the floor. “You’re right,” he groaned. “We’re not going anywhere.”
“We wouldn’t run away even if we could,” Nick said.
DeMarco and Silas gaped at him in surprise.
“We wouldn’t?” Silas said.
Nick shook his head.
“You heard Bob,” said Tesla. “He wants to pop the president of the United States like a bag of popcorn.”
“We can’t let that happen,” said Nick. For once it was easy for him to sound as resolute as his sister.
Tesla noticed the change in Nick. She glanced over and gave him a quick but approving grin.
“Guys,” said DeMarco, “we’ve stopped, like, crooks and thieves and idiots trying to ruin a movie. This is out of our league. Like Silas said to Bob: this is James Bond stuff.”
“Well, how does James Bond always save the day?” Nick asked.
“Ooo! Ooo! I know!” Silas said, raising his hand. “He blows up the bad guys’ hideout!”
“Which we are currently in,” DeMarc
o said
“That wasn’t what I was thinking,” said Nick.
Tesla pointed at a pile of electronic equipment on one of the desks. “Nick’s talking about gadgets,” she said. “And they’ve left us enough stuff to build one more.”
She began pacing in a slow circle, scanning the room. Nick did the same.
When they stopped, they were both pointed in the same direction: toward the door.
“A-ha,” said Nick.
“Exactly,” said Tesla.
“We’re gonna make a gadget out of a door?” said DeMarco.
“Look over the door,” said Nick.
“Ohhhhhhh,” said Silas and DeMarco.
Jutting out from the wall above the door was a metallic-gray dome about the size of a cereal bowl.
An alarm bell.
Nick and Tesla looked at each other and nodded.
They’d found their hope.
NICK AND TESLA’S
SUN-ACTIVATED ALARM CLOCK/VILLAIN DISTRACTOR
THE STUFF
• A hotel bell (available at office supply stores) or bicycle bell
• A mini vibration motor
• A small nut
• Brass brads
• A paper clip
• A metal coat hanger
• Thin plastic-coated wire
• Electrical tape
• Cardboard
• A solar panel that can output 3 or 4.5 volts
• A wire cutter
• A hot-glue gun
• Pliers
THE SETUP
1. Very carefully, trim some of the plastic off the ends of the motor wires, leaving about ½ inch (1.25 cm) of wire exposed. Hot-glue the wires at the base of the motor (so they won’t break when the motor is hanging).
2. Check that the nut just fits over the spinning part of the motor. Slip it into place, making sure the motor can still spin, and then dab a little glue to secure it.
3. Use wire clippers to cut a length of wire from the coat hanger; about 20 inches (51 cm) should be enough. Bend one end of the coat hanger wire to fit around the base of the bell and glue it in place. Bend the rest of the wire at a 90-degree angle so it reaches over the bell, as shown.
Nick and Tesla's Solar-Powered Showdown Page 12