The Lost Tribes, page 19
“The government doesn’t do things like that,” Ben whispered.
The TV camera showed an aerial view of the street shot from a helicopter. An enormous crater occupied the space where Paradise Circle used to be. Thick black smoke poured out of the flames. Water canons used by the fire department had no effect. Everything was gone. The house. The street. The cars. Everything.
“ … Feared lost,” droned an anchorwoman with over-lacquered hair, “are Drs. Shan and Mei-Ling Choedon, former linguists with the United Nations, Drs. Jeremiah and Medie Webster, noted professors at Sunnyslope University, Drs. Frank and Maria Lopez, also professors at the university, Dr. David Hightower, historian and antiquities expert and Dr. Cheryl Hightower, curator of the Sunnyslope Museum. Sources close to the families say that all were in the area at the time of this tragedy. Also feared dead are the Choedon, Webster, Lopez and Hightower children …”
Natural disaster? A natural disaster didn’t use battering rams to knock down doors. Parents don’t need weapons to defeat a natural disaster. He stared at the crater and wondered if he was looking at the entrance to hell.
“ … Ted, the fire now appears to be contained to this one block. Miraculously other houses in the development were spared. Area experts have no explanation, but all residents are being asked to evacuate for their own safety until the cause is determined …”
Carlos gasped. “The force field. It kept the fire contained, saved all those lives.”
All except our parents.
Overcome with grief, Ben crumpled to the floor. His parents were gone. The friends in this room were all that remained. They were his family now.
Aris climbed on his shoulder, purred in his ear and snaked his way down to Ben’s lap. For the first time, Ben did not push him away. He clung to the cat as if it were the last sign of hope on the planet.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Just Visiting
“True heroism is remarkably sober, very undramatic. It is not the urge to surpass all others at whatever cost, but the urge to serve others at whatever cost.”
Arthur Ashe
They sat in office for what seemed like hours, in shock and staring into space. Ben knew they needed to find the safe house, but he didn’t have the energy to move.
Serise poked her head into the empty hallway. “Coast is clear. Anyone need to stop at the bathroom before we go? Never know when we’re going to find another one.”
“I do,” April said. “Can someone go with me?”
Serise nodded. “The rest of you hide until we get back.”
“I’ll go too,” Grace said.
April’s sneakers squeaked on the marble floors as they left. She crouched and crept like a cat, her index finger pushed to her lips as if she were ordering the floor to remain silent.
Ben guided the office door with his hand so that it wouldn’t make a sound as it closed.
“Do you think the Night Watchman is patrolling?” he asked.
“Doubt it,” Carlos said. “Dr. Hightower said Sam hangs out in the front office listening to the radio. He’s supposed to make rounds every two hours but nothing ever happens in Sunnyslope. This place is like a tomb at night. I bet he’s asleep. I would be.”
Ben’s stomach was a mass of tangled knots. He had told his parents he had figured it all out. But that was a lie. Like Carlos, he was happier with his fantasy of familial bliss. “I’ve got to go the bathroom and splash some cold water on my face. Want to go with me?”
“I’ll stay here. Got a lot on my mind.” Carlos reached into his backpack and took out a tin of band-aids and antiseptic. “Take these. Your hands are scuffed up pretty bad.”
“Is there anything you don’t have in there?”
“A kitchen sink.” Carlos attempted a weak smile and pretended to search his bag. “Nope. Don’t see one of those in here. Everything else is covered.”
“Like Mary Poppins.”
“I prefer James Bond or even Inspector Gadget.” After a minute of reflection Carlos added, “You scared?”
“Terrified.” Ben was relieved the girls weren’t around to hear his confession.
“Me too. I guess we should have been careful wishing for an adventure. This isn’t what I had in mind. I’d give anything to go back to a life where broiling naked in the sweat lodge was as wild as we got.”
“I know what you mean,” Ben said. “I don’t get it. They’re spies, they’ve got all those great toys. How come I couldn’t get a plasma screen? Heck, if you saw what my dad was planning to steal from the British Museum, he could have bought me a basketball franchise.”
Carlos leaned up against a file cabinet, closed his eyes but didn’t respond.
Ben pulled the map from the front pocket of his backpack. “Can I show you something? I know you don’t want to play, but things have kind of changed, don’t you think?” He unfolded the paper and placed it on Carlos’s lap. “Does this mean anything?”
Carlos frowned as he studied the map, then let out a weak laugh.
“What’s so funny?” Ben pressed. “Do you know what it is?”
“It’s nothing. A big fat zero. A joke.” Carlos let the paper fall from his hand. “Your uncle is sick. That hole? It’s the Pisces-Perseus cluster. There’s nothing there. It’s a void. Maybe that’s the point. We get to the end and he yells April fools! Only it’s October.” He paused and stared out into space. “Maybe the surprise is a bunch of space aliens yelling, Trick! No Treat!”
Ben didn’t believe it. Not with everything that had happened. He was convinced the last clue would have filled in the blanks. But that wasn’t the priority now. “Our parents are still alive. I can feel it.”
Carlos sighed.
“You going to be okay?” Ben asked, worried his friend was headed for another meltdown.
Carlos shrugged. “We’ve probably got a long way to go.” He looked at the map again, then shoved the bandages into Ben’s palm. “I’m okay. You get cleaned up. I’ll stay here and be the lookout.”
Ben stuffed the bandages in his pocket and slipped into the hallway, mimicking April’s cat-like stance as he went. Once inside the bathroom he stared at his reflection. He looked tired and ten years older. This all had to be some big joke — a malfunction of the game simulation. He’d splash water in his face and when he looked up, he’d be in his own house, in his own bathroom, in his old world again.
The cold water stung as it hit him. Ben looked past his reflection in the mirror. Instead of comforting blue walls and stenciled tropical fish he saw cold gray marble. Even in the dim light he could see how much he resembled his father.
He felt betrayed. He’d read stories of foreign spies who spent their entire life training to live like Americans. Was that his parents true identity? A life filled with cryptic codes and hidden passages? Was he headed back to some distant foreign country? Had life, as he knew it, come to an end?
“Dad?”
“Yeah, son?” Ben’s father hopped a miniature Darth Vader around the game board and stopped at the Dagobah swamp. He helped himself to 200 credits for passing “Go.” No need for rent. He owned it along with most of the board.
“Didn’t you ever want to do something different? More exciting?”
“Your turn. Want to pay to get out of jail?” His father said quietly. He studied the board, the position of the player’s pieces and the dice as if it were a game of strategy instead of a game of chance.
Ben tossed 50 credits on the table and rolled the dice. He moved his Luke Skywalker six spaces to a property lined with X-wing fighters. Luckily he owned the orange Yavin Four property, one of the few he had managed to keep out of his father’s clutches. “Don’t you want to be recognized for all the stuff you do, Dad? Have people look up to you?”
“What’s the point?”
“You’re the smartest researcher on the planet.”
Jeremiah Webster’s expression softened. He squirted catsup on the side of the plate and pushed it across the table. “Want some more fries?”
“We could be set for life if you sold some of the stuff you and Uncle Henry find instead of donating it to the university or the museum.”
His father smiled but didn’t respond.
“You should be on the cover of National Geographic! Haven’t you ever wondered what it would be like to be famous?”
“No. Have you?”
“Heck, yeah! This town is boring. Nothing interesting ever happens around here. One day I’m going to be a world famous Center and set you and Mom up in style!”
“Why?” His father laughed. “By the way, if you tell your mother I got barbecue for dinner while she was out of town, you’re grounded until the next millennium.”
Ben took a huge bite of beef and swallowed. “Look at Barry McKenna. He’s cool. He’s got endorsements. Women chase after him. He drives hot cars. He’s famous.”
“Hmmm. Hot cars, cool guy. Interesting contrast.” His father shoved money into the bank slots and replaced his fighters with star destroyers on his blue Coruscant properties. “You’re dead meat when you get around here.” He chuckled and took another healthy bite of the oversized sandwich, licking the sauce from his fingers before moving his Darth Vadar token eight spaces to Ben’s heavily mortgaged property. “Fame is not relevant.”
Ben was incredulous. “How can you say that? Don’t you want people to notice you? Didn’t you ever want to be rich?” He rolled a six and moved to an Imperial Square. His card read “Travel through hyperspace to ‘G0’ and collect 200 credits.” Ben breathed a sigh of relief and stuck his tongue out at his father.
His father countered Ben’s move by adding extra Tie-fighters along the low rent Dagobah section of the game board. “It’s not about the money. That’s an illusion. Anything beyond basic needs is a waste of resources.” He rolled, landed on a Reactor Core, calculated the rent and tossed a paltry thirty credits in Ben’s direction.
“I just thought you would want someone to notice what you do. You could get the Nobel Peace Prize or something. You could make a difference.”
“If I do my job well, and the world as a whole benefits, then why would I care if anyone noticed?”
“Because that’s how you get your name in the paper. On TV! You know … famous explorer Jeremiah Webster discovers the lost city of Atlantis. Jeremiah Webster uncovers the secret to the Egyptian pyramids. They were built by aliens. Cool stuff like that.”
His father choked on his cream soda, brought his hand up to his mouth and tried to stifle a laugh. It took a few seconds for him to recover. “I don’t think I’ll be revealing any secrets like those anytime soon.” He fingered a miniature fighter, held it up to the light. “Do people actually believe something like this could fly through space?”
Ben ignored the comment. “Well, I’m going to be famous. MVP. Own a string of steak houses. The works!”
“Fame comes with a big price tag. Once you lose your privacy, it’s hard to get it back.”
“Yeah, but you’d be rich. Everyone would know who you are, rushing up and asking for your autograph and stuff.”
“No thanks. I do my best work when no one is looking. Completing my research is reward enough.” His father gazed at him thoughtfully. His eyes sparkled. “By the way. You’re almost broke. Why don’t you just give me all your money and I’ll let you go to bed with some dignity.”
Ben ignored him and rolled again. Safe. He hopped his Skywalker token to “Just Visiting.”
“I want you and your sister to have a good life,” his father continued. “That’s a job your mother and I cherish. Devoting yourself to the pursuit of fame and wealth closes off options that could be more rewarding. I’m content with my choice. As for you, one day you’ll make your own. When the time arrives, I trust you’ll make the right one. If fame is what you chase, be prepared for the consequences.”
Ben studied the game board and recognized the futility of his previous moves. In an effort to save money to buy Coruscant’s Monument Square and Imperial Palace he had squandered his chances to buy other properties and yet had never attained the prized locations. Above the buffet, an African mask mocked him with its wide toothy grin and protruding tongue. Ben admitted defeat and tossed his money into the bank.
“Love you, Dad.”
“Love you too, Son, until the end of space and time.
So there it was — the plain truth. The clues had been in front of him his entire life. Ben thought he had understood, but all the while he had missed the hidden meaning. All the travel, the money that supported their lifestyle. His father’s obsessive dislike of publicity. He thought his father was a gifted scientist, an extraordinary teacher, when in reality he was living a double life. He couldn’t smuggle artifacts out of foreign countries if everyone knew what he was up to. His father loved him, that much he was sure of. But Ben couldn’t reconcile the lies with the truth.
He stumbled into the last stall, closed the door and sank down on the closed lid of the toilet. His whole life had been a make-believe story, and now, even that had been ripped away. The weight of the betrayal was unbearable. He clutched his stomach and sobbed quietly.
Someone entered the room. Ben started to ask Carlos, is that you? Instead, he sucked his lips inward, turned the stall lock and pulled his feet off the floor.
“Hrmpph!” It sounded like the person was blowing his lungs out through his nose. Clunk, Clop, Clunk. Heavy awkward footsteps traveled across the tile floor.
Ben heard muffled music. He craned his neck and peered through a slit between the wall and the door. A vague human shape stood near the mirror.
“To the left. Now to the right. Dance til you’re out of sight!”
The man sang loud and off key. A door slammed shut.
Ten stalls and he has to pick the one next to me? A single tear rolled down Ben’s cheek. He caught it in the palm of his hand.
Heavy black boots with extra thick safety soles appeared beneath the metal divider. A minute later a pair of striped uniform pants crumpled to the floor. A large ring of keys crashed against the tile with a reverberating clatter. Sam, the night watchman. Ben looked at his watch. 3:15 a.m.
Frozen with fear, Ben leaned backwards. A few minutes later, the crumpled pants straightened and Sam left the stall. Ben slowly released his breath and was about to relax when his toilet flushed.
He closed his eyes and clamped his hands over his mouth to keep from screaming. He’d set off the time delayed motion sensor. Paralyzed, he waited for Sam to investigate. Nothing happened. The toilet in the next stall had flushed at the same time.
“It ain’t nothing but a good thang! Yeah! Sing it with me, y’all …”
Water streamed from the faucet. After a few seconds Sam walked toward Ben’s stall. Ben leaned forward, careful not to set off the toilet sensor again.
Wrench, wrench.
He peered through the crack and saw Sam bouncing up and down to the beat of a faint rhythm while getting paper towels. A white cord was looped around his head and extended to the iPod on his belt. His music was cranked up so loud that he couldn’t hear any thing else around him.
“Come on y’all let’s get on down. Party! Whoo whoo! Party! …”
The singing grew faint as the Sam exited down the hallway. Ben nearly passed out in relief.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Conundrum
Function: noun
Etymology: origin unknown
1 - a riddle whose answer involves a pun
2 - an intricate and difficult problem
“Did you see him?” Ben asked, when he returned to the office. “Sam is patrolling.”
“Yeah,” Grace said. “Scared us to death. We thought he heard us in the bathroom but he was singing so loud I knew we were safe.”
“He doesn’t sing very well,” April said.
“He could wake the dead,” Serise agreed. “Can’t be very good at this job. Didn’t even notice there were intruders in the building. Five of ‘em. When I see my mom again, he’s toast.”
“Enough!” Carlos spat, his tone sharp and irritated. “We’ve got to get a plan.”
“We’ve got a plan!” Serise said, hands back on her hips. “We’re going to the basement. Mom said there was a gateway there.”
“Where?” asked Ben.
“She didn’t have time to finish explaining. She said it was inside the sarcophagus. That shouldn’t be too difficult. She gave me her watch and said that if we got separated, to set the second time zone to midnight.”
“Okay,” Ben said. “That makes about as much sense as everything else we’ve run into.”
“I’m tired.” April said, the words partially garbled by a large yawn. “We need to hurry up and find the hideout so I can go back to sleep.” She paused and studied his face. “Hey, Ben. You look tired too. Your eyes are all puffy and red.”
“I know. You don’t look so good yourself, kiddo. Just hang on.”
They slipped back into the hallway, ears pricked for any sign of Sam’s off-key singing.
“Coast is clear.” Serise led them toward the back of the building and pointed. “This way.”
Everyone followed, looking from side to side down deserted corridors until they were safely inside the stairwell. They descended until they reached the basement. It was dark except for the glow of the exit lights.
“I’ve got a flashlight,” Carlos said.
“Are you crazy?” Ben whispered. “What if someone sees us?”
“Like who?” asked Carlos. “Even if Sam isn’t singing, you can hear those heavy paramilitary boots from three miles away. I’ve had enough dark tunnels for one night, thank you very much.” He reached into his pack, retrieved a flashlight and switched it to the lowest possible setting.
“There,” he sniffed. “Satisfied? Just enough to keep us from breaking our necks on this journey of the damned.”
“Carlos!” Ben pointed to April who clutched him around the waist. Aris brushed back and forth against her pant leg and purred.
