Challenge
Authors: Ridley Pearson
ALSO BY RIDLEY PEARSON
Kingdom Keepers
—
Disney After Dark
Kingdom Keepers II
—
Disney at Dawn
Kingdom Keepers III
—
Disney in Shadow
Steel Trapp
—
The Academy
WITH DAVE BARRY
Blood Tide
Cave of the Dark Wind
Escape from the Carnivale
Peter and the Sword of Mercy
Peter and the Secret of Rundoon
Peter and the Shadow Thieves
Peter and the Starcatchers
Science Fair
For Paige and Storey and their paternal grandfather, “Bop-Pop” Robert G. Pearson, who made reading a pleasure instead of a requirement
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thanks to my editor at Disney, Wendy Lefkon; my Disney publicist, Jennifer Levine; Amy Berkower at Writers House, who is instrumental in all my publishing; Nancy Litzinger, who keeps the office running; Laurel and David Walters, who scour the manuscripts; and to Eric Robertson (retired) of the US Marshals Office, Department of Justice (Seattle), who shared the often secret world of witness protection and helped to create the character of Roland Larson. And special thanks to Dave Barry for reminding me to always keep it simple and make it fun—words to live by.
Copyright © 2008 Page One, Inc.
All rights reserved.
Published by Disney • Hyperion Book, an imprint of Disney Book Group. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher. For information address Disney • Hyperion Book, 114 Fifth Avenue, New York, New York 10011-5690.
Printed in the United States of America
First Edition
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
ISBN: 978-1-4231-4114-3
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
TABLE OF CONTENTS
MAY 31
OPENING DAY,
THE NATIONAL SCIENCE CHALLENGE
WASHINGTON, D. C.
His heart stopped.…It had nothing to do with nerves.
The bleachers surrounding the science challenge’s demonstration area teemed with parents and family members, all jostling for better views. In the front rows, reporters had their laptops out, while their colleagues manned TV cameras at the back of the hall, their black lenses staring up at the stage like giant eyeballs.
Exhibition Room B of the Grand Hyatt’s convention center had been converted into a kind of basketball arena with a raised stage at one end, bleachers on both sides, and a cordoned-off media area at the opposite end. Prior to introductions—which were to be done alphabetically, making Steven “Steel” Trapp one of the last names to be called—the previous year’s winner was to demonstrate his blue-ribbon invention.
Steel shielded his eyes from the bright lights that played down onto him and the other contestants, searching for his mother among the hundreds of guests in the audience. His breath caught, and he gasped aloud as he thought he recognized a face out there.
The foreign woman from the train…
Spanish or Mexican, with dark hair and brooding, worried, eyes.
The stupid lights from the TV cameras blinded him, and though he did everything he could to block them—short of standing up and leaving the stage—he couldn’t be certain that it was her.
The cameras all followed a robot that came out onto the floor—it looked like an emergency cone with a retractable arm—and tried to pick up a glass full of water, but dropped it. The glass broke, the water spilled, and the audience let out a sigh of disappointment.
But quickly, a second robot zoomed out, bounced off a chair, vacuumed up the broken glass, and mopped up the water.
The crowd applauded—the broken glass had been part of the demonstration.
Steel held his hand up to the lights once again:
empty!
Her seat was empty now. He scanned the faces in the crowd, wishing he weren’t part of this.
Initially, he had been thrilled to have earned a spot in the National Science Challenge. He’d come here to demonstrate and explain his remote-controlled electronic sniffer. But the events of the past few days had changed all that; he had much more serious concerns now. A human life hung in the balance. Playing with robots seemed foolish.
As the introductions began, he searched the crowd again. He spotted Kaileigh and wondered at the injustice of her being in the bleachers. She belonged onstage with him and the others. Like all girls his age, she looked older than Steel. She had brownish-red hair, green eyes, and some freckles at her cheekbones. But beneath her good looks she was just another geek, and not ashamed to admit it. He was angry about the circumstances that now prevented her from participating.
He finally caught sight of his mother—near the aisle in the second row on his left—her full attention fixed on him. She glanced away quickly when caught, then slowly looked back and met his eyes. Her expression begged him not to be mad at her for staring. But he wasn’t mad at her. It was his father who had ticked him off. A week earlier his dad had extended a business trip at the last minute. He was supposed to be the one in the bleachers, not Steel’s mom. His dad had bailed on him—bailed on a project he’d helped Steel create. His dad absolutely should have been here. His dad belonged here. His dad was a jerk for missing this. Worse, Steel had had a bad feeling about his dad just before his mom had told him he wasn’t going to make it home in time for the trip. A very bad feeling. More than anything, he just wanted to see his dad in person, to talk to him. It felt almost as if…but he pushed that horrible thought away, as he had so often this past week.
Steel looked for the mystery woman again, and still there was a gap in the bleachers where she’d been sitting.
One by one, the contestants were introduced. The next kid up to the microphone wore a Hawaiian shirt, a vain attempt to be someone he was not. A nerd is a nerd. Get used to it.
One of the cameras moved at the back of the room. Steel looked in that direction. But it wasn’t the camera he saw. Instead, he caught sight of two men, two faces he knew only too well.
The federal agents from Union Station.
He could hardly think.
Oddly enough, they weren’t looking at him, but instead, into the crowd. He followed their gaze.
There
!
She’d switched seats. The woman with the dark eyes. The woman with the foreign accent from the train platform in Chicago. The woman who’d started all the trouble with the briefcase in the first place.
He had no doubts now: it was her, sitting only a few rows behind Steel’s mother.
To his horror, he watched as his mother also spotted the agents. She got up from her seat in a hurry and worked her way down the aisle and—steaming mad, there was no mistaking that look of hers—marched toward the taller agent. Steel had to stop her.
He stood up.
An older kid next to him pushed him down and said, “Stay in your seat, Einstein. It’s not your turn, unless your name is Annie Delmer.”
Steel’s belly twisted into an unforgiving knot.
There was only one explanation for the woman’s being here: she was looking for the briefcase.
