Space Runners #2

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Space Runners #2 Page 13

by Jeramey Kraatz


  “The dome,” Benny said into the darkness.

  “It hasn’t been compromised or else my helmet would have powered on,” Dr. Bale said.

  “I’ll get the generators for you, Doctor,” Todd said.

  “They’re in the second trailer,” Mae said. “I’ll help.”

  There was a shuffling nearby. It sounded like someone—maybe more than one person—had banged into one of the tables the assistants had set up. Something metal bounced on the cement floor.

  “Stay still,” Dr. Bale commanded. “There’s too much sensitive equipment lying around here.”

  Pinky appeared beside the man, casting an eerie glow around her.

  “Apologies,” she said. “There was a swell of energy in the rock around the Grand Dome that caused it to constrict. I diverted all unnecessary power to the force field, which continues to hold. Backup power should be restored in—”

  Crimson lights flickered on around the perimeter of the ceiling. Benny’s eyes adjusted quickly. He looked over to see Hot Dog, who was bathed red. She had her hands balled into fists in front of her stomach, like she was ready to strike at someone, but seemed to relax a bit as she blinked.

  “Ah, there we are,” the AI said.

  “Keep all our energy on that dome,” Dr. Bale said. “We can wait this out.”

  “Of course, Doctor.”

  Benny realized Drue had disappeared. He looked around quickly, spotting him making a hasty exit toward the door.

  “Drue!” Benny shouted.

  “No way,” his friend replied without even looking back. “I’m not staying in here waiting for another blackout.” And then he was out the door, into the courtyard.

  “Well, Ricardo,” Dr. Bale said. “You never gave me an answer.”

  Benny could see the muscles in the senior Pit Crew member’s jaw bulge out as he gritted his teeth. “I have a hundred EW-SCAB winners to check on,” he finally said. “Let’s go, Trevone.”

  He turned on his heel and headed for the side exit that led into the Taj. Trevone glanced at Benny and Hot Dog, and then followed him out.

  Dr. Bale turned to his assistants. “We need to finish unloading this equipment. Once backup gets here, things will move very quickly. We’ll need deep space probes and—”

  “How are you so calm about this?” Benny asked, taking a few steps forward. “We have no idea what’s happening outside!”

  Dr. Bale turned to look at him. “I asked Ricardo about you. He said you came from the Drylands. It’s a difficult place to grow up, I’d imagine. No wonder you have such fight in you.” He twitched his mustache. “But you’ll be a good boy and leave this work space on your own, right? Go to your rooms. Play a video game. I don’t need any more distractions.”

  “A good boy?” Benny asked.

  “Come on,” Hot Dog said, turning away from the man. “Let’s find our friends.”

  Benny took one last look at the weapons and gadgets the assistants were unloading, and then turned to follow her. They were almost to the door leading to the courtyard when Dr. Bale spoke again.

  “From what I gather, you and your comrades down here have enjoyed free rein, ignoring all the rules.” He motioned to Pinky. “Remember, I’ve got my eyes on you.”

  “What is it about the Moon that makes adults so weird?” Hot Dog whispered.

  They found Jasmine, Ramona, and Drue all standing in the center of the courtyard near the fountain of a shiny chrome hand reaching out of the pool of water, its fingertips almost touching gemlike orbs floating around it. All five of them stared up at the darkness that had blocked out the sky.

  Benny realized this was the first time since he’d been on the Moon that he couldn’t look out and see Earth on the other side of the dome. He shivered.

  “You found Ramona,” Benny said. “Good.”

  “She was in her suite,” Jasmine said. “Ignoring the alarms.”

  Ramona shrugged. “Figured Pinky was fritzing.”

  “I don’t exactly feel safe out here,” Hot Dog said. “We should get inside. Just in case this thing breaks.”

  “Uh, is there anywhere we can go without you know who being all over us?” Drue asked.

  “Who, Pinky?” Benny replied.

  Drue’s eyes bugged out at him. “No, I mean the ghost of Elijah West who’s haunting the resort now.”

  That’s when Benny noticed that Drue’s expensive-looking black space suit was bulging out around his stomach. Something was stuffed inside it.

  “Uh, what—” Benny started.

  “Underground,” Jasmine said. She was staring at Drue’s space suit, too, nodding. “That’s the safest place to be, remember.” She looked around at the others, opening her eyes wide and motioning toward the door. “Even though Elijah didn’t get around to installing all the cameras and stuff like he has in the Taj. At least not everywhere.”

  That’s when Benny understood—below the Taj, they’d have privacy. They could figure out their next move.

  “You know the way,” he said. “We’ll follow you.”

  “This new Pinky better have the elevators on,” Drue grumbled as they climbed the steps to the Taj. “I do not want to have to go down that stairwell again.”

  Fortunately, the elevators were working—though Jasmine mentioned several times during their descent that a power outage would trap them in the shaft—and in no time, they were stepping out onto a rock slab in the underground bunker. All around them, platforms floated on hyperdrive engines alongside giant white lights that bobbed in the air. Unlike the last time Benny had been down there, people were scattered among the various levels. Ricardo and Trevone looked like they were trying to calm down a dozen kids on one of the greenhouse platforms. Elsewhere, some of the EW-SCABers who’d gone underground days ago were showing those who’d just evacuated from the Taj where everything was. Benny spotted Ash and Bo McGuyver walking between rows of Space Runners and big objects draped in dust covers—the vehicles they’d stored away underground after the first attack on the Taj.

  “This does not seem safe,” Hot Dog said as she walked to the edge of the rock slab they stood on and stared into the black abyss below.

  “Well, there are invisible force field fences along the perimeter of each platform to keep anyone from falling off,” Jasmine said. “If they’re still working, that is.”

  “Let’s try not to find out,” Benny said.

  One of the EW-SCABers in Ricardo’s group caught sight of Benny and his friends and pointed, shouting a barrage of questions at them.

  “I think my space suit is about to explode,” Drue said. “We don’t have time to talk to these dudes.”

  “Jazz?” Benny asked.

  “This way,” she said, pointing to a staircase leading up to a tunnel carved into the wall. “I think this side is where all the nonresidential rooms are.”

  They followed close behind her, passing several mining carts that were lined up near the elevators. Hot Dog looked over at them and shuddered.

  “Never again,” she murmured.

  The tunnel snaked deeper into the Moon. Neon blue lights turned on every few feet as they rushed through. They passed several rooms that looked like incomplete research labs, the equipment still covered in plastic sheeting, as well as a sort of trophy room with framed magazine covers and portraits crowding the smooth rock walls.

  “Elijah,” Benny said, shaking his head.

  Finally, Jasmine took a turn and entered a doorway on her right. “Yes! This is what I was looking for.”

  As she stepped inside, white lights turned on overhead and revealed what looked to Benny like a copy of the meeting room up in the Taj—only this one was carved out of gray rock. In the center was a circular holodesk, surrounded by a dozen rolling chairs.

  Benny looked around. “So, I don’t see any cameras or anything . . .”

  Ramona raised her arm and tapped on her old HoloTek. “Room’s clean. Only power source is the desk.” She grinned. “Not connected to Ta
j servers yet.”

  “Ugh,” Drue said, hurrying over to the holodesk. “Good. This stuff is totally stabbing me.”

  He unzipped the top half of his space suit and several devices spilled out onto the desk—one of the leftover black drones, a hunk of asteroid, and . . .

  “Holy whoa,” Benny said. “Is that Dr. Bale’s alien radar?”

  Drue grinned as he straightened his undershirt and zipped his suit back up. “Yeah, it is. I figured we could use it. And, I guess I kind of got grab happy in the dark.”

  “I can’t believe you took all this stuff.”

  “I can’t believe you didn’t just freeze up and scream when the lights went out,” Hot Dog said.

  “I think you meant to say thank you,” Drue scoffed.

  “Wait, wait,” Jasmine said. “Alien radar? I have to see this.”

  She started tapping on the HoloTek while Benny explained how unhelpful it had been upstairs. Sure enough, now that they were so far beneath the Moon’s surface, it wasn’t picking up anything.

  “Ramona,” Benny said, “maybe you can boost this thing? Like you did the satellite?”

  “No doubt,” she said, eyeing the device. “Major updates needed.” She whistled. “Hardware, too.”

  “Right,” Jasmine said. “I have no idea what’s down here as far as equipment goes.”

  “Okay.” Benny started pacing, trying to breathe steadily. “So, things are really bad.”

  “And now we don’t even have Pinky helping us out,” Hot Dog said.

  “Well, we sort of do,” Jasmine said. “Remember when we first unlocked Pinky and she got mad at Ramona for downloading her program files?”

  Ramona pulled out her Taj HoloTek and expanded it on the table. “Backups are max critical. Save your work.”

  She accessed a few programs that looked like complete gibberish to Benny, and then suddenly Pinky’s face filled the screen.

  She did not look happy.

  “Of all the indignities I’ve suffered”—the AI’s voice came out of the HoloTek speakers—“being held captive in your datapad is among the most annoying.”

  “Cool your coding,” Ramona said.

  Pinky narrowed her eyes. “My location sensors tell me that we’re in one of the underground meeting rooms. You could at least port me to the holodesk.”

  Ramona let out a throaty giggle as her fingers flew over the screen. In a few seconds, Pinky appeared as a two-foot-tall hologram above the desk.

  “That’s better,” she said, stretching. “Now, I’m smart enough to understand I’m a backup file from this morning,” She adjusted her eyes, spinning around and looking at each of the Mustangs in the room. “So what happened to the other me?”

  They filled her in on the state of the Taj. The more they spoke, the redder Pinky’s face got.

  “That arrogant beast,” she said when they were finally finished. She raised a hand to her temples as she tapped a high-heeled shoe.

  “Ramona, keep Pinky’s files safe,” Jasmine said. “We don’t want whatever programming Dr. Bale is running upstairs to infect her.”

  “Roger,” Ramona said. “Total quarantine.”

  “That’s smart,” Pinky said. “I’ll patch in to your comms, though, so I can keep talking to you.” She took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes. “Okay, so the Taj is under attack and we’ve lost control of it.”

  “Any suggestions?” Hot Dog asked.

  The AI turned to Ramona. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but perhaps you and I could work together to get past Bale’s program? Whatever it is that’s let him take control? We’d have to be connected to the servers, of course.”

  “That doesn’t help our biggest problem,” Benny said. “The dome. We have no idea how many aliens are out there, or what they want. Or if help really is coming from Earth since we’ve lost contact. We really need to get outside.”

  “I have some ideas about that,” a voice boomed from the doorway.

  Benny turned to find Ricardo Rocha standing behind them. Benny straightened his back and clenched his fingers. The others tensed up around him.

  “We need to talk,” Ricardo said, staring at him. “You and me. Alone.”

  “The last time you wanted to talk to someone alone, you sold out the Taj,” Hot Dog said.

  Ricardo grimaced. Though the Pit Crew member didn’t respond, there was something in his expression that took Benny by surprise. It was worry or fear—he couldn’t tell which. And he remembered that back in the garage, Ricardo had been adamant about finding his friends. He was used to the older boy looking stone-faced as the Mustangs’ group leader, acting more like a drill sergeant than a teenager living on the Moon. He seemed somehow different now, and looked at Benny not with anger but something closer to desperation.

  “I’ll be right back,” Benny said, nodding to his friends.

  Hot Dog raised her eyebrows and looked at him like he was crazy, but he went anyway, out into the hall. He followed Ricardo into the trophy room they’d passed earlier, the one crammed full of monuments and photos dedicated to Elijah’s achievements. Ricardo walked over to a framed magazine cover declaring Elijah West “Man of the Millennium.”

  “Don’t worry,” Ricardo said. “Pinky can’t hear us in here.” He paused. “Dr. Bale’s Pinky, I mean.”

  Benny realized he must have been listening to their conversation for a while before coming in—that’s why he hadn’t seemed surprised by the much shorter version of the AI hovering above the holodesk in the meeting room.

  “Right,” Benny said. “What did you want to talk about?”

  Ricardo rubbed his hands over his face slowly before turning to Benny.

  “Trevone is the reason I’m here. He’s been telling me that I’ve been acting like a fool for the last twenty-four hours, but I brushed him off. I was just so worried about Elijah. And now . . .” Ricardo’s shoulders slumped. “Your friends back there. You trust them?”

  Benny furrowed his brow. “Yeah, of course I do.”

  “And you’d do anything for them?”

  “Sure. I mean, we haven’t known each other long, but we’ve kind of been through a lot together.”

  Ricardo nodded. “So you have the smallest idea of how I must feel right now. I . . .” He hesitated, his gaze falling to the stone floor. “I sent my friends to patrol and look for any more signs of the aliens, yes. But also to see if they could find any evidence of whatever superweapon Dr. Bale apparently has hidden on the dark side. He wouldn’t tell us about it, and I wanted to gather all the information we could. Now they’re stuck out there. And we’re stuck in here.”

  Benny wanted to ask more about this superweapon—had Dr. Bale told the Pit Crew it was hidden out there somewhere for sure?—but it was obvious that wasn’t what Ricardo wanted to talk about.

  “It’s not like you knew this was going to happen,” Benny said. “They’re probably fine, hiding out in a crater somewhere.” Even as he said these words, though, he knew how little good they would do. If someone had said his family was “probably fine” back on Earth, he wouldn’t have felt any better.

  Ricardo shook his head. “Or they’re trying to fight the aliens and failing. I have to get out there and find them. I’m going to take the doctor’s weapons and use them to break through this rock barrier. Trevone is already looking into regaining control of Pinky, at least enough to get us through the auxiliary port.” He looked at Benny. “You’ve done big things up here. That’s why I’m talking to you now.”

  “I’ve had a lot of help.”

  “Sure. But the others view you as a leader. I know how overwhelming that can be, especially if you didn’t ask for it. Before I came to the Taj, I was nothing. I was street trash in Brazil.”

  “I heard you were some kind of soccer star or something,” Benny said.

  Ricardo laughed once. “I had some skills, yeah, but being the best out of a bunch of nobodies in Rio—half of us playing on empty stomachs—isn’t exactly much to be p
roud of.” He shook his head. “I was like you. The best of the caravan. But still in a caravan. There’s only so much you can do from a position like that.” He paused. “That came out wrong. No offense.”

  “No,” Benny said. “I know what you mean. How do you change the world from a camp out in the desert?”

  “Exactly. But up here . . .” Ricardo motioned around them. He focused on the picture of Elijah. “Up here you can do anything. Or at least, that’s what we all thought. Elijah once told me he invited me to stay at the Taj because he knew he needed someone to lead. The Pit Crew—even if it was just me at the time—needed a strong foundation. But look at us now.”

  “We can figure this out.”

  Ricardo looked down at him, taking a deep breath. “I need your help. You and your friends in there. I know we haven’t seen eye to eye on everything, but . . .” He trailed off, shaking his head.

  “I get it,” Benny said. “I can only speak for me, but I’ll do whatever I can. I don’t know if you noticed, though, but I don’t think Dr. Bale actually cares about finding Elijah. And . . . he could be right about the Alpha Maraudi wanting us to lower our shields.”

  “I’m willing to take that chance,” Ricardo said. “I’m not just going to sit trapped down here hoping for the best. I’m going back up top and blasting my way out. I’ll find Sahar and Kai and Kira.”

  “Trapped . . .” Benny said quietly, repeating the word in his head. It reminded him of what Jasmine had said just a little earlier, when she’d suggested they evacuate everyone. Because despite what some people thought, the tunnels leading into the Grand Dome and the garage up above weren’t the only ways out to the lunar surface.

  “Actually,” Benny said, a smile taking over his face. “There’s another way.”

  17.

  Benny gathered his friends on the floating platform in front of the dozens of Space Runner and Moon buggy prototypes and one-of-a-kind models that had been collected underground. They’d managed to get the McGuyvers to herd most of the rest of the EW-SCABers off for a tour of the tunnels leading into the walls, giving them a little breathing room.

 

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