by Bill Doyle
Buy the KNIGHT 3400 Night Goggle System Now!
If your night vision goggles are interfering with your 'quist transmissions, try the KNIGHT 3400 system. In dim light, KNIGHT 3400 converts light particles into electrons, which strike and create an image on a screen—just like your basic night goggles.
However, in total darkness, the KNIGHT 3400 uses Ultraviolet radiation to light the room instead of an infrared flashlight, which blocks 'quist transmission. Like infrared, Ultraviolet light is invisible, but it won't mess with your quist!
And that's not all! Old screens were green and hazy, but the KNIGHT 3400 comes with a full-color, crystal clear viewer!
WARNING! All orders must be made through proper government channels!
“I should've known you'd be trouble,” she hissed as she strode toward me.
I moved quickly, pulled my probe out of my belt loop, and turned to SHARP TEETH.
“What are you doing?” She asked. “You think your little artworks can save you?”
“Yes,” I said, connecting the SHARP TEETH battery wires to my probe. “Actually, I do.”
Ms. Jenkins said, “Ha!” like any good villain, and continued toward me.
Now! I though, and flicked the switch on my probe.
Instantly, it acted like a battery and sent power into SHARP TEETH. The giant jaws immediately started chattering. They bounced off the crate they'd been sitting on and clattered across the floor, heading straight for Ms. Jenkins.
But the teeth were moving too slowly. Ms. Jenkins just glanced down at them and laughed. She easily stepped out of the way, and the teeth rammed into a stack of large boxes behind her and started gnawing away at the bottom one.
“Nice try,” she said, tossing back her jet-black hair and giving me a twisted grin.
She started advancing toward me slowly, and I tried desperately to Keep my eyes from watching SHARP TEETH.
THE BOXES CAME TUMBLING DOWN.
Just as her shadow fell over me and her body blocked out everything else, I heard a crunching sound. SHARP TEETH had torn through the side of the box, and it caved in under the weight of the boxes above. The entire stack teetered and began to lean…
Ms. Jenkins turned just in time to see the boxes start to fall. She raised her arms to protect her head, as they came crashing down all around her. She howled in rage as asteroid samples tumbled out of one of the boxes and fell on her, pinning her to the ground.
18 - SCIENCE ALLIANCE MAGAZINE
SPACE ROCKS
Taking a trip on the Space Elevator? Be sure to check out the asteroid samples on display at the top. If these asteroids hadn't been snatched out of space, they might have reached Earth somebody.
When asteroids enter Earth's atmosphere, they and the streaks of light they make as they burn up are called meteors (commonly known as shooting stars). Over a million meteors bombard the atmosphere every day—and every once and awhile, one is big enough to make it to Earth's surface. Then it's called a meteorite.
One of the biggest smashed into of the biggest smashed into Earth about 65 million years ago and may have caused the extinction of the dinosaurs. But not to worry—a new state-of-the-art detection system gives us time to redirect or destroy a large asteroid well before it endangers Earth.
“Let me go!” She screamed. Clearly, nothing was wrong with her lungs, and she looked uninjured. I decided it was safe to leave her there for a second.
“I will,” I told her. “But first I have some questions for you.”
“Make that WE have some questions.” It was Charlotte, and she was coming around the side of a large crate.
“Hello, little sister,” Ms. Jenkins purred. “You're just in time to help me.”
Charlotte just glared at her. “You're not my sister. I may be your clone, but I don't know you.”
She walked toward me. I was glad to see her, and we exchanged relieved smiles. We had found the bad guy and subdued her. Now if we could just get her to tell how us how to destroy the virus, everything would be fine.
“This was all your doing, wasn't it?” I asked her. “You e-mailed the tickets to your clones to come on board the Elevator. You wanted to confuse any possible investigation into the stolen statue.”
Ms. Jenkins didn't respond, but I could see from her eyes that I was right.
Charlotte took a step toward her. “How could you invite your own flesh and blood onto this Climber and then infect them with a deadly virus?”
Ms. Jenkins remained silent for a moment and then said, “I never wanted to use the virus. It was just my emergency plan, in case something went wrong. And you, “ she added bitterly, pointing at me with her one free hand, “you went wrong.”
“How?” I asked. “By discovering that the statue on Level 2 was a fake?”
The guard laughed. “I was in the Control Room when you were on Level 2. I saw you on one of the cameras, and when I heard you say that the statue was a fake, I triggered the attack. I thought my plan was ruined when the elevator stopped on Level 3 and that Yves Jackson spotted me. But everything kept running along smoothly. Until now.”
Charlotte shook her head. “How could you do this to anyone—especially to people you call 'sister?”
“Don't be so melodramatic!” Ms. Jenkins cried. “That virus has a built-in timer. It will die within the next twenty-four hours. I just needed everyone out of the way for a while. Unfortunately, I forgot that children under eighteen wouldn't have 'quists and wouldn't be infected. Besides, the hair inside that statue was worth all the risks. I needed to have time alone with it so I could use a laser tool and extract the hair without noticeably harming the statue. I didn't want you or other art experts to notice that the hair was gone. I thought I would be able to do it without getting caught.”
I was opening my mouth to ask her more about the hair when something moved in the corner of my vision. I turned just for a split second. It was judge! What was she doing here?
Ms. Jenkins took advantage of the distraction and tried to push herself up out of the broken boxes and asteroid samples. She freed her other arm, but that's as far as she got. Her movements disturbed another stack of boxes that had been leaning precariously, and they tumbled down on top of her.
Only Ms. Jenkins's head was poking out of the pile, and she was unconscious. I could see now that she was wearing a prosthetic nose. The fake son must have been a disguise to keep her from looking exactly like her clones, but it had been knocked loose by the falling boxes. I rushed over and checked her pulse. It was strong. I turned to Judge. “Help me get her out of here.”
But Judge didn't move. Her small frame seemed filled with tension, like a coiled spring waiting to explode.
Charlotte noticed it, too. “Judge? What is it? Why are you here?”
“Shhh,” she whispered. Her eyes were darting around, looking into the shadows and dark corners. “Asyla is on this level.”
My heart skipped a beat. “What?”
“I'm sorry,” Judge said. “She broke away from me and headed here. I couldn't stop her. Turns out she is much stronger than either of us thought.”
Before this news could sink in, there was a sound like a battle cry .Asyla soared through the air above our heads and slammed into ESCAPE BY A HAIR at full force.
ASYLA SMASHED INTO THE STATUE!
“No!” I shouted, unable to stop myself. For a moment, I forgot about the danger to us and thought only about the statue. After all, I had been hired to protect it.
Upon impact, the statue cracked in two, the halves falling away and smashing to the floor. Pieces of marble skittered in every direction. A tin box about the size of a bar of soap clattered to the floor. It must have been hidden inside the statue.
Asyla spun in midair and landed in a crouched position. She gazed up at us like a cat with the good fortune of finding three mice stuck on a glue trap.
“Hello,” she purred. Then, still crouching, she plucked up the tin box.
We just stared at her.
<
br /> “Is it Justine Pinkerton and her little friends to the rescue again?” she asked. “Is that the way history will remember this encounter?” Then to answer her own question, she added, “Not this time.”
I didn't say anything. Sometimes a detective just has to listen to get answers.
Asyla's fingers were working at the tiny lock on the tin box. “Aren't locks amazing inventions? No matter how advanced they get, you still need a key in order to open them.”
ASYLA PICKED AT THE LOCK
“What are you talking about?” Charlotte said.
“Why, the key to this whole situation, of course.” Asyla turned her eyes on Judge and me. “In this case, it would be an anagram. You people and your anagrams. Always so clever at solving them. Feverishly switching letters about here and there, and always cracking the case at just the last second.”
There was a small click from the lock, but it still didn't open. Asyla continued, “You have no idea how I laughed every time we met, and all of you would say my name: Notabe, Notabe, Notabe. I mean really! Notabe 's not even an anagram.”
NOTABE…
I gazed at Aslya in shock. The image of her standing in the ruins of the statue of Mary Todd Lincoln and John Wilkes 'Booth seemed suddenly charged.
I could almost feel the pieces of the puzzle clicking into place in my brain. The answer must have been in the journals all along. For a moment, I was too surprised to speak. Aslya just grinned at me, clearly enjoying herself.
“NOT ABE,” Judge and I said at the same time.
“EUREKA! Asyla shouted, her voice echoing around the room. “Not Abe, indeed. As in 'not Abraham Lincoln.' And to think it only took you 125 years to figure it out!”
“I don't get it,” Charlotte said.
Aslya made a face. “Then let me be the one to explain it to you, my dear. My great uncle was John Wilkes Booth. My mother changed our name from Booth to Notabe, and we made it our life's mission to make the lives of the Pinkertons miserable. They kept my mother from what's in this box so many years ago. Them and their good friends, the Fitzmorgans and Moories. The moment I heard the title of this statue, I Knew why my clone wanted it It's something I tried desperately to get my hands on during my life.” As if thinking out loud, she added, “All those years I spent developing cloning technology… and now, I don't really need it.”
“What are you talking about?” Charlotte said.
“For being a copy of me, you really aren't very bright, are you?” Asyla said. “That night at the theater, Mrs. Lincoln nearly caught my great uncle. You might say she missed him by a hair.”
With that, she gave one more twist and the tin box finally popped open. As Asyla gazed inside, her face filled with awe. “Look at that!” she breathed. “Isn't it beautiful?” She turned the box slightly toward us, and I could make out a small lock of …
“Hair!” said.
“And now you must know why I wanted this statue so badly.”
Judge breathed, “That hair…”
“Yes?” Asyla asked in a teasing tone. It was Like dealing with someone who had her finger on the trigger of a gun. And that gun was pointed at us.
THE BOX HELD A LOCK OF HAIR
I said, “That hair belongs to—”
“Ah! Only now you understand,” she said triumphantly. “Only now when your time is up!” Her hand moved toward the lock of hair.
Judge and I dove forward at the same time to stop her. But we were too late. Asyla laid her hand on the hair.
There was a sharp hiss like the last bit of fuse burning down on a stick of dynamite.
I reached out toward her—
And there was a bright, violent explosion as the nanobots that made, up Asyla flew apart. It threw Judge and me backward off our feet. We tumbled into Charlotte, and the three of us fell into a heap. As I tried to catch my breath, I felt something near my chest clicking and clacking.
Before us, the disorganized nano-material swirled violently. And using the DNA in the hair, it reorganized into the shape of a man.
Wearing a three-piece suit in the style of the 1860s, he looked to be about twenty-sirs. He had a head of curly brown hair above an oddly pale but handsome face. His eyes were the most distinctive thing about him. They burned like hot coals.
It was a man any historian would easily recognize.
INFAMOUS ESCAPES!
John Wilkes Booth
After shooting President Abraham Lincoln on April 14, 1865, John Wilkes Booth leaped out of the Presidential Box at Foid's crashed onto the stage, he broke his left leg. Booth paused to deliver his last line onstage: “Sic simper tyrannis” (“Thus always With tyrans”), then ran, limping, out of the theater and escaped on horseback.
On April 26, Booth was trapped in a shed on a Virginia farm but refused to surrender even after was set on fire. Booth was shot in the neck and dragged outside. Before dying, the clearly misguided villain whispered” “Tell my mother I did it for my country… ”
The assassin John Wilkes Booth was standing before us. He ran his hands over his face and made his was over to the window, in the airlock door, where he could see his reflection. He touched his hair.
“My niece was right,” he murmured. “She said hair samples were like seeds that could be used to 'grow' people. She knew it would take decades for science to catch up to the idea… but it did. And she brought me back.” Then he noticed us watching him in the reflection. “Who are you?” he asked.
“We're the ones who brought you back,” Judge lied, stalling for time.
Booth smiled for a moment and the cocked his head to the side as if he were accessing some internal memory. “No, I don't think so. My grand niece, Asyla, is still part of me. And like a wonderful director in my profession, that part of me is telling me exactly what needs to be done. It's time for the curtain to come down.”
He took a step toward us. The dark gleam in his eyes made his violent intentions clear. Next to me, I felt Charlotte take a defensive stance, and I braced myself.
Suddenly, Teddy burst out of my jacket on the attack. He must have clicked on during my fall Now he flicked himself off my body with his tiny back legs and launched himself at Booth. His loud, sharp barking pierced the air.
TEDDY LEAPED AT BOOTH!
He was tying to save us—
But Booth didn't even flinch. He just lashed out with one foot and Kicked Teddy across the room. He bounced off a crate and slammed against the wall with a sickening crack. His bio-real eyes sparked and went dark as he slid to the floor.
I didn't cry out. That would just waste the opportunity that Teddy had given us. Instead, as if we were all of the same mind, Charlotte, Judge, and I rolled to Booth's right. We ducked behind a pile of crates, and crab-walked across the floor until we were hidden behind a wall of giant industrial barrels.
We were all breathing heavily but trying to keep it quiet. “Now what do we do?” Charlotte whispered. “Bing back AI Capone? How about Dracula?”
I didn't laugh at her joke, but she had a point. We had just helped to bring back one of the most notorious criminals of all time.
I listened carefully to mate sure Booth wasn't nearby. I could hear him moving around on the other side of the level.
“If we can stall him long enough,” I murmured to Judge, “he might go to sleep tie you and Asyla did.”
Judge shook her head. “If that were the case, he would have gone to sleep by now. I think the direct DNA source has changed things. I don't think he's going to have to stop to reboot.”
“In that case,” I said, “I need to get to my probe.”
“Why?” Charlotte asked.
“Two days ago, before the nano-material went from Judge to Asyla, I forced it to travel through an apple. As they passed through, the nanobots picked up bacteria. The bacteria are a food source for the nanobots. All we need is a heat source to trigger a reaction. I can use my probe to mat that heat.”
I was surprised when they didn't question what I planned t
o do. I guessed desperate times called for desperate measures.
“Okay,“ Judge said. “Charlotte and I will keep Booth occupied while you get the probe.”
They rushed back toward the airlock. “Judge!” I heard Charlotte call out to draw Booth's attention away from me. And it worked. From around the edge of a barrel. Isaw him dart after them.
CARING YOUR NEW NANOBOT
Follow these simple steps, and you'll be off to a good start:
1) First, find your 'bot. This is easier said than done. Most nanobots are less than 100 nanometers long. And a nanometer is one billionth of a meter—or the length of about 10 atoms placed end to end.
2) Learn what your 'bot is programmed to do. Some nanobots work alone, like those that act as surgeons in the capillaries of the human body. But many nanobots are made to work with others to form shapes that can work with humans. So your 'bot's factory programming might have to be changed if you want it to follow your 'bot's factory programming might have to be changed if you want it to follow your commands.
3) Feed your 'bot right. It doesn't need much, but if you expect it to multiply and repair itself, then you have to give it a source of power. This could simply be electricity—or if you have a newer model, food.
I ran over to the broken boxes that covered Ms. Jenkins and quialy began searching for SHARP TEETH. I had just spotted the putrid green teeth when a hand wrapped around my ankle.
“Ah!” I shouted. The hand belonged to Ms. Jenkins and she was looking up at me with dazed hatred. Her grasp was weak, and I jerked my leg free. Her eyes closed as she fell back into unconsciousness.
I reached carefully for SHARP TEETH and yanked it out of the debris.
The sound of Charlotte's screams filled the level.
I plucked my brobe out of SHARP TEETH and shouted, “I'm coming!”