by Sam Maggs
Well, not wrong maybe. But … different. Added?
“Cat, take a look at this,” Alex said, pushing his face closer to the replica.
“What, is it germs? Because you really shouldn’t get that close to anything here—”
“I think it’s writing,” Alex realized, finally reaching out to touch the replica in front of him (despite the numerous printed warnings against doing so and the potential germs, but desperate times called for desperate measures). Alex ran his fingers across one of the levers and down the side of a console.
That was it. The pattern looked so random at first, he couldn’t be certain, but there was no doubting it now. There was a message hidden in the USS Venture replica.
And hidden messages usually meant just one thing.
Alex unzipped his messenger bag in a hurry and fished around for his phone, currently connected to one of the three portable chargers he’d brought in case of emergency battery drainage (you really can never have too many). He swiped through his folders—games, social, finance, movies … There! Linguistics.
He popped open his Universal Translator app and scrolled through the list of languages it held. Someday Alex wanted to make something this cool and useful but with art. He had yet to figure out what that was or how to do that. But he figured he had time.
Alex selected the Star Cross category and started flipping through the available languages. Not Korgon, too elegant. Not Atalantian, too boxy. Not Ioslan …
“DeForean!” Alex shouted triumphantly, startling Cat.
“The writing?” Cat asked, standing up to look at Alex’s phone.
“The writing,” Alex agreed. “This is why I always have the Universal Translator ready to go. Here, look…” Alex hit the video recording option in the app and passed his phone over the writing on the Venture console. Come on … come on …
Ping! The Universal Translator app had done its job. And it had done it really well.
“Let me see!” Cat wiggled her fingers, demanding Alex’s phone. “What does it say?”
Alex looked down at the screen for one more second to be sure he hadn’t misread it.
He hadn’t. This was huge.
Alex held up his phone for his sister to read.
“DeForean. Universal Translation: Quest Item 5: The Quest donation box is hidden behind booth 3346.” Cat stopped dead and stared at the phone. “Alex.”
“Yes?”
“Alex!” She started to bounce in place.
“Yes?”
“Alex!” Cat started jumping up and down with glee, all worries about James M. forgotten. Her purse bounced up and down against her back, and she didn’t even seem to notice. “Item five! You found it!”
Well, you know what? He really had. Alex grinned. It had been a good escape plan, after all.
29. Share a photo of your team eating healthy at the convention! Maybe the most challenging item of all! (46 points)
12
Fi
“There’s just no point to it.” Fi gestured at the wildly colorful booth she and Rowan were passing.
“There is a point to it, dude,” Rowan shot back rapidly.
“I doubt it.”
“You just have to think about it.”
“It’s just a cartoon,” Fi argued.
“I promise you, it’s more than just a ‘cartoon.’” Rowan looked mortally wounded at the very suggestion.
“It’s not even in English.”
“It’s even more rad when it’s not in English.”
Fi laughed at Rowan’s absolute and intense certainty on this. This had been going on for the better part of an hour. Fi and Rowan were wandering around the con in search of the twins—arguing back and forth about everything the convention had on offer. Rowan loved anime; Fi didn’t understand it. Fi explained her love of soccer, showing Rowan the soccer ball she always carried in her backpack; Rowan tried to relate it to her love of sci-fi. Rowan insisted Fi just had to read this comic book; Fi wouldn’t be caught dead with a picture book in her bag.
But despite (because of?) the incessant back-and-forth, Fi was forced to admit that she was not miserable. She wasn’t having fun, of course. Far from it. But she was maybe having the best time she’d had at the con all day. Which wasn’t saying much, considering. But if she did still have to search for the terrible two, at least she had some help. Things weren’t totally hopeless. And more importantly, it seemed like Rowan wasn’t likely to rat her out to any of her friends at school.
Well, soon-to-be friends. Totally.
Fi almost tripped when Rowan held out an arm to stop her from walking any farther. Thanks to the rapid halt on the floor, someone bumped directly into Fi’s back and cursed at her. Rowan flipped the dude off in response.
“Thanks.” Fi laughed as the guy huffed away, complaining about con crowds. “But why’d you stop in the first place?”
“C’mon,” Rowan said conspiratorially, grabbing Fi’s hand. Fi’s palm was sweaty. The con does that to a person.
Rowan tugged Fi over toward a corner of the anime booth they were in—why were all these cartoon girls’ skirts so short, seriously?!—and tucked them into it until they weren’t likely to disturb any other floor traffic. They were really close together. So close that Fi could actually smell something … pleasant. For the first time. All day!
“Are you wearing perfume?” Fi asked almost compulsively.
“What?” Rowan asked, distracted by her phone. “Here, check it.”
Fi took Rowan’s phone when she handed it over. She didn’t recognize what was on the screen—some sort of checklist. “What is this?”
“Well, we weren’t having any luck finding your sibs just wandering the floor,” Rowan explained, “so I found their profile on the Quest app. Team DoubleTrouble.”
“The Quest app,” Fi repeated. She took a deep breath, letting the idea settle in her mind. “Did you just, like, have this on your phone?”
“Who doesn’t?” Rowan brushed it off. “Look, we can see every time the twins upload an item—it gets crossed off their list.”
Sure enough, as Fi watched Rowan’s screen, she saw one of the items on the twins’ Quest list stricken in real time. Number seventeen: Sneak up on one of your fellow team members and videotape the jump scare.
After all the angst the twins had caused her, the thought of Alex having the living daylights scared out of him actually made Fi smile a little.
“Can this help us find them?” Fi asked, shuffling a little closer to Rowan to get a better look at the screen.
“Every Quest team can have four members,” Rowan said, pointing to the app’s top bar. “Team DoubleTrouble only has two. If you register as a member and join their team, you can start completing Quest items for them and—”
“Noooooo way.” Fi cut Rowan off, stepping backward and bumping into the booth’s wobbly cardboard wall. She steadied it before continuing. “I am not becoming a member of their weird little nerdfest for kicks.”
“Not for kicks, dude!” Rowan interjected. “It’s a strategy.”
Fi immediately knew where Rowan was going with this. And Fi didn’t like it. It made sense, sure. But it also meant getting herself involved in one of the twins’ schemes. And that was never a safe place to be.
“If I’m completing items, we’ll eventually run into them?” Fi guessed.
“Heck yeah.” Rowan flipped her hair out of her eyes, and Fi smelled that nice smell again. It wasn’t a bad plan. And Fi didn’t exactly have anything better on the table right now. Plus, it might get her out of here sooner. Which was a good thing. Right?
“Fine.” Fi decided it was easier just to give in than to get into another argument with Rowan. “Let’s go.”
Rowan went to grab her phone back, but instead of snatching the cell away, Rowan wrapped her hand around Fi’s. “Hang on,” she said, looking right into Fi’s eyes. “Before you start running again. Do me a favor and look at the folks in this booth.”
Fi
stared at Rowan for a second before tearing her eyes away. She glanced around the anime booth. Light-up signs screaming nonsense like Lunar Soldier: Pretty Navy Guardian Space! and Igor!!! on Skates stared back at her. The booth was filled with the same weirdos who populated the rest of the con.
“They look like everyone else here.” Fi shrugged. Rowan still had her hand.
“Exactly,” Rowan said, infuriating Fi. She never made any sense. And why hadn’t she let go?
“I don’t—”
“They’re stoked.” Rowan squeezed Fi’s hand and raised her eyebrows. “They’re happy to be here. Lunar Soldier speaks to them, for whatever reason. They’re around other people who get that. They can be one hundred percent themselves here without worrying about being judged or made fun of or having to explain themselves.”
Fi looked back at Rowan. She looked so earnest. “Okay. So?”
“Okay.” Rowan stepped closer to Fi. That smell again. Lilacs? “So what are you so worried about?”
17. Sneak up on one of your fellow team members and videotape the jump scare. (14 points)
13
Cat
“Boom!” Cat made an explosion motion with her hands as she dropped a toy into the Quest donation box. She’d been carrying it around all day—a special-edition Ducky McFowl action figure her parents had donated specifically for this charity item on the Quest list. Way to go, Team DoubleTrouble!
The hidden instructions on the USS Venture had led Cat and her brother straight to the donation box, tucked away beside booth 3346. Not that booth 3346 was exactly hidden—it was just on the side of the con floor that nobody ever really went to. You know, the one with all the body pillow vendors and independent comic-book publishers. It wasn’t their fault; it’s just there were so many million trillion amazing, exciting things going on at GeekiCon that nobody really had the energy to lug around a human-sized pillow printed with their favorite alien video game character or a heavy stack of original comics.
Kind of ironic, given the whole comics convention thing. But it was true.
“We did it, we did it, we did it!” Cat chanted while swinging her cape around dramatically. On this side of the floor, there was enough space in the aisles to dance around majestically if you wanted to. And she wanted to!
“Do you still have the Hall M—?”
“Yes I do, yes I do, yes I do!” Not even her brother’s high-functioning anxiety was going to bring Cat down right now. Not when they were crushing this Quest between their fists! Their fists of justice! They were superheroes, and the Quest was their nemesis! Wait … was Team Dangermaker their nemesis? Cat figured she was going to have to work on this metaphor later. When she wasn’t so excited about their great success!
“What’s next?” Cat asked her brother, whisking her cape in front of her face dramatically. “What do we have left?” She switched up the pose, sweeping her cape out to the side.
“Less than we should,” Alex said, his brows knitting together while he checked the app.
“What do you mean?” Cat struck a third pose, nearly taking out a passerby in the process. It was all good. She was lookin’ great, feelin’ great.
“I mean, someone’s checking items off our Quest list that we haven’t completed yet,” Alex said, a note of panic in his voice. He flipped the screen around to show Cat.
She dropped out of her power pose and checked her brother’s phone. Frowning, she opened the app on her own phone, just in case Alex’s was glitching out for some reason. But no, he was totally right. “Convince a cosplayer dressed as a character you’ve never heard of that you definitely know who they are” was checked off, as was “Play a sport on the main escalators.” Cat knew for a fact they hadn’t done either one of these. She refreshed frantically, but the poor signal inside the convention center was preventing her app from downloading the pictures and videos that had been attached to these mysterious items. So close to the answers … yet so far!
But the Quest team reviewed every list item as people submitted them. No one was awarded points for items falsely completed. And Team DoubleTrouble was receiving points. So … what in the Wormhole was going on?
“Okay, what we’re not going to do right now is panic,” Cat said, trying to sound way more confident than she felt. “If we’re getting points, then … someone must be helping us. Right?”
“Like … a GeekiCon angel?” Her brother’s voice sounded shaky, and she didn’t blame him. This was definitely weird.
“Like a GeekiCon angel.” Cat nodded firmly. “Let’s just roll with it. Why look a drift horse in the mouth, you know?”
“Gift horse,” her brother corrected her.
“Well, that just makes no sense.” Cat shook her head. Her brother was so smart, but he could be kind of ridiculous sometimes. “Who gifts a horse?”
“What’s a drift horse?” Alex shot back.
“I just assumed it was something Mom used to have in the old country. Whatever.” Cat shrugged. “Let’s focus on the items that haven’t been checked off, and worry about our drift horse later. Sound good?”
“Okay,” Alex agreed tentatively. Cat sensed that he knew they had no other choice. The day was passing by quickly—way quicker than they needed it to be. They were running out of options here! And this only increased their chances of winning, really—so what difference did it make?
Right?
Right!
From out in the corridor, beyond the doors to the con floor, Cat heard something. Synth, saxophone—the unmistakable sounds of forty-year-old pop music filtered through the walls. Cat gasped with recognition.
“Dancercize!” she shouted, seemingly out of nowhere. Luckily, Alex understood immediately.
“Item twenty-two?” he asked her quickly.
“Item twenty-two,” Cat confirmed, already taking off toward the sound. “‘Participate in Dancercize with a Star-Trooper squad!’”
“I know what item twenty-two is!” her brother yelled as they jetted toward the con floor exit at top speed.
“Okay!” Cat yelled back, barely listening. This could be their only chance to get this item, one of the most difficult on the list. They had to follow the sound!
Cat slammed through the double doors, ignoring the protests of the volunteer guarding them. She knew Alex was hot on her trail. They were on a roll—checking off Quest items, blessed by a GeekiCon angel. The day was theirs. She had to take advantage of this moment!
Cat rounded a corner at high speed, blisters screaming in her too-tight loafers, and headed toward the nearest set of escalators. She cursed that decoupaged-shoes Quest item with every fiber of her being. Ouch. Ouch. Ouch …
There! As Cat entered an open atrium, she saw it. A whole squadron of Star-Troopers, their white plastic armor clacking to the upbeat sounds of retro synthpop. And at the front of the force, leading them to their Quest item victory was …
Team Dangermaker.
Of course. Cat should have known there was only one team that could so successfully pull off such a difficult Quest item. The best team of them all. They must have been organizing this when Cat and Alex saw them with the Star-Trooper squad this morning.
And to add insult to injury, it looked like only two members of Team Dangermaker were present for this item. They must have split up to grab as many items as they could. But it was impressive that they could pull off a stunt this big with only two people. Cat had obviously never met Team Dangermaker IRL (obviously), but she was pretty sure the brown-skinned Dancercize leader (clad, of course, in head-to-toe spandex right now) was Malik, with Dahlia, their natural hair in extremely rad pastel-colored twists, filming on their phone.
Next to Cat, Alex was looking at the whole spectacle with wide eyes. There must have been fifty Star-Troopers in full exercise-video mode. Dahlia even had a speaker system to amplify their music!
Cat buried her head in her hands. There was no way they were ever going to be able to replicate this. She had been so sure of their success just
a few minutes ago—and now she was crashing back down to Earth, her superhero cape tangled around her legs as she fell into the depths of the ocean. They were absolutely burned toast. Completely.
“We’re never going to win,” she groaned through her fingers.
Alex peeled her hands away from her face. “You know I can’t hear you when you do that.”
“I said, we’re never going to win!” Cat repeated dejectedly, dropping her hands.
She watched as Alex forced a very fake-looking smile onto his face. “It’s going to be fine!”
He was trying to help her stay positive, and Cat appreciated that. But still.
A couple of very tall, very muscular cosplayers moved in front of Cat and blocked her view of the Star-Troopers. As she started to demand they move with a loud sigh, Cat suddenly had an idea.
It was a bad idea.
It was definitely a bad idea.
But it was her only idea. And she was going to run with it. After all, they were on a roll and they had to keep it going. Right?
“Hi, excuse me,” Cat said, tapping one of the cosplayers on the back lightly. He was shirtless and so was his friend. They had more muscles between the two of them than Cat had ever seen in her entire life. And how were they so shiny?
“Hello, small hero,” one of the cosplayers said. Cat could tell he was committed to staying in character, even if she wasn’t entirely certain of what character that was, exactly. “Do you require something of us on this fine day?”
“Yes.” Cat nodded. She rubbed at the finger she’d used to tap him. Oil. Go figure. “I need you to … distract those two people in spandex for a minute. Just for a minute.”
“How? And why?” the cosplayer asked, hoisting his ax onto the holster strapped to his back.
“The how is entirely up to you,” Cat said quickly. “And the why is entirely on us. But I will give you an autographed copy of the first season of Ducky McFowl if you can do this for us.”
His eyes went wide. Cat knew she’d struck gold. “Autographed?”